The Twelve Days of Disaster
by MEOW-I'm-A-Dog
Summary: A series of oneshots about Christmas that go from crack to full cocaine. Written on a whim, not to be taken seriously unless you want to. Characters: Breda, Ed, Al, Havoc, Fuery, Hawkeye, Falman, Mustang, Hughes and the occasional Armstrong
1. The First Day

**The Twelve Days of Disaster**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: There is about zero dollars in my pocket right now. That is also how much of Fullmetal Alchemist I own.<strong>

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><p><strong><em><span>The First Day<span>_**

**Characters: **Jean Havoc, Vato Falman

**Summary:** Hughes asks Havoc and Falman to go and cut down a tree for him so that he could make it into a Christmas tree, but the two men get far more than they bargained for when they realize that during this time of the year, the wilderness is really wild.

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><p>A gust of brisk cold air slammed onto Havoc at full blast, pushing him back a few inches. He blocked the wind's path with his gloved hands but his efforts were fruitless. He still suffered the effects of the cold and inevitably shivered.<p>

"T-T-This is-s _ridiculous!" _Jean shouted, although the clattering of his teeth made his shout hard to take seriously. "It's got to be like, negative fifty degrees!" He moved his hands and wrapped himself in a solo embrace.

"Actually, it's only less than twenty degrees Fahrenheit," Falman said, stopping and looking at the way the trees were pushed by the blast of air. "But the wind's speed lowers the temperature, making it feel as if it's in the negatives. Adding the wind, in reality, it only feels as if the temperature should be in the single digits."

Jean pulled a face and Falman shrugged, "I told you it gets colder in the woods, but you insisted on wearing that thin jacket."

"That's because that giant thing makes me look like a fatass!"

"Does it really matter what you look out here?" Falman asked incredibly.

Havoc nodded defiantly, "This jacket shows off my biceps; it accents my macho-ness. "

"Who could you possibly impress in the woods?"

"That's beside the point," Havoc grunted. "Let's just hurry and get this over with before Hughes chews my ears out."

"It would be much more helpful if you held this," Falman said, gesturing to the large axe that he was struggling to hold with both his hands. "This thing probably weighs more than me…"

"Hell no," Jean huffed, walking past the Warrant Officer and deeper into the woods, the other man following sadly. "I have to cut the damn tree, so the least _you _could do is hold onto the axe."

Falman wrinkled his nose. "Fine. But you're dragging it back to the car."

Havoc gave a careless shrug, "I don't care. Just be sure to have an excuse made up for Hughes once you explain why it took you so long to get his Christmas tree back because I'm going to take my sweet ass time bringing it down."

"You're a monster…" The gray haired man muttered, kicking a stray rock out of his way.

"If anyone's a monster, it's Hughes!" Havoc burst, waving his hand in emphasis. "I mean, why couldn't he just _buy _a damn tree like a normal person instead of making us freeze our balls off out here!"

"He wanted an authentic Christmas with everyone and according to him, an authentic Christmas entitled an authentic tree." Falman answered knowingly. "Hey, it was either this or going with Hughes to the Christmas Carnival tomorrow."

Jean shivered, and not just from the cold, "God forbid I go anywhere family related with that man."

Falman nodded in mutual understanding. "Last year was a massacre," He whispered hoarsely. "That poor camera didn't even stand a chance."

Havoc sniffed, "It couldn't handle it, so it just … died."

"…and then he went and bought a new one –"

"Stop! Don't let me relive it…" Jean whimpered. "Let's just go find that damn tree and get this over with."

So the two men walked forward. The temperature dropped slightly as they climbed the hill, in search of the "Perfect" Christmas tree, as Hughes strictly drilled into their heads.

'_I want it tall. Okay? As tall as … as Armstrong! You got that? As tall as the Major and as big as … hmm … as big as … Armstrong! Yes, perfect! As tall and as wide as Alex! I want an Armstrong Christmas tree, you got that?'_

Havoc's head dropped. They were on the hunt for an Armstrong Christmas tree but in this part of the woods, all they could find was Fullmetal trees. Stupid, tiny, annoying trees that were practically mocking them as they swayed back and forth in glee. Jean glared at the trees and flared his nostrils when one of them started dancing from its roots.

_Is that a challenge? _ Havoc thought as the small tree seemed to be laughing at him as its dying branches shook against each other. _Mark my words, you little pipsqueak. Once the weather warms up, I'll be back with an axe and cut you up. Then I'll make you watch as I cut your family and I'll make you all into chairs so you can kiss my ass in the afterlife!_

"Havoc!" Falman called.

"Coming!" Jean smiled, waving at the man. He sent the tiny tree one last glare before catching up with Vato.

After trudging further up the hill and deeper in the woods, a hand pressed against his chest stopped Falman from moving any further.

"What –"

"Look!" Havoc yelped.

"Where?"

"There! There!" Havoc pointed. "Right there, in the middle! The most beautiful Armstrong tree, sitting right there, waiting for us."

Falman looked and held back a gasp of surprise and relief. There it was, standing with all the grace a tree could possibly possess, was the most perfect Christmas tree Falman had ever laid eyes upon.

It was so tall, but not too tall, and its branches extended neatly at its sides. It was a luscious green color, and probably the brightest tree in this hill.

"My god … it's magical," Falman breathed. He inched closer to it, wondering of the sparkles that twirled around it were real or just a figment of his imagination.

"Give me the axe. I'm gonna slaughter this baby before anything gets in our way." Havoc smiled, a crazed hunger like sound dripping from his voice. Falman handed him the axe wordlessly and watched with small fear as Jean bashed the tree with the sharp point of the axe over and over and over again until it finally collapsed onto the ground, creating a large _thud._

Havoc grinned like a madman while Falman mused out loud, "I wonder. If a tree were to fall onto the ground, and no one was around to hear it … would it make a sound?"

"Who gives a crap!" Havoc shouted against the wind. "We got the tree! Now hand me the rope so we can get out of here before my balls fall off!"

Vato complied and once the tree was tied and secured, they descended down the mountain with Havoc pulling the tree with brute strength.

"I'm so glad it didn't snow," Havoc muttered.

The other nodded, "If it did, then all the food Hughes bribed us with wouldn't have worked."

"Food…" Jean moaned. "Hughes promised me apple pie."

"He promised me chocolate cake."

"I swear, if I don't get my apple pie, I'm shoving this tree right up his – "

A _crack _like noise was heard and both Jean and Vato froze at the sound of a twig being stepped on. They spun around swiftly at the source of noise and stifled a gasp. There, between the trees, was a small deer.

Jeans eyes widened, "Falman … do you see that?"

He nodded. "It seems to be a fawn. It must have strayed away from its mother."

Havoc's eyes sparkled, "It's so … cute and precious."

"Come on, Havoc. We need to get going."

"No, no! Wait! Lemme just … stare at it some more."

"We're going to be late –"

"Holy shit," Jean suddenly gasped.

"What?"

"It's staring at me."

"Yes, it's been doing that for the past minute," Falman sighed. "Can we just go –"

"No, I mean it's staring _into my soul_," Havoc said quickly. "I can feel it burning holes into my soul … as if it's calling me." He bent his knees and extended a hand to the animal, "Hey there, little buddy. You lost?" He was using the same voice he used when he talked to little Elysia, and just like the little girl, the baby deer wrinkled its nose at the man.

"Come on, Lieutenant. We need to go, just leave it alone."

"It? _It?" _Jean asked incredulously. "_It _has a name, Falman."

"_Please_ tell me you didn't name it."

"It's Suzie."

"Suzie? Oh, for the love of… You seriously need help."

"Come on, Suzie. You wanna come with me, right? You love me, right? Of course you do, everybody loves Jean." He gushed to the fawn. The deer just twitched its ear. Jean extended his arm once more and beckoned with his hand, "Suzie, come to daddy."

Much to Falman's surprise, the deer actually crept closer to the other man.

"That's it, Suzie!" Jean encouraged, now extending both his hands, as if he was planning to hug the animal. "You're almost there; just a little bit more and you'll be happily living with daddy. I'll make you a little pen in my apartment, and we'll go for walks together and eat together and make everybody jealous at how adorable you are and I'll dress you up in cute little…"

Just then, so suddenly that if Falman blinked he would have missed it, a flurry of gray leaped from behind the trees and pounced on the deer. The gray ball of fur and the brown deer tumbled on the ground and when all the movement ended, Falman's jaw touched the ground when he saw a large gray wolf on top of the baby deer, strangling its delicate neck with its vicious teeth.

Jean's eyes widened to the size of plates. "SUZIE! NO!" He bellowed pathetically, slamming his fists to the cold ground. "She was so young!"

An audible crunch was heard, and when he looked up, he paled considerably. The wolf's mouth was now smothered blood and the deer's neck was a blanket of red. Suzie's now gray eyes stared into Havoc's, and the man whimpered.

"Suzie, oh dear God, somebody call an ambulance! Suzie, hang in there! Don't go into the light!" Havoc screamed.

The wolf blinked and bit harder into the fawn's neck, all the blood in its body pouring out from the wound. Havoc was speechless, his face as white as snow.

"Uh … okay … Havoc, I think it's time for us to go…" Falman said shakily, growing uneasy by how the wolf was glaring at the two.

"No…" Havoc muttered. "Not before I avenge Suzie." He slowly stood up and pointed a vicious, trembling finger at the beast. "You _monster!" _

The wolf licked its lips amusingly. Havoc continued, "Suzie had her whole life ahead of her and you just took it all, you heartless bastard! What do you have to say for yourself?" The large wolf just crunched harder on its prey's neck.

Havoc slowly bent down and picked up a rock that was lying next to him and Falman pulled a face. "You're going to throw a rock at a _wolf? _Are you insane? If you provoke it, it'll just try and eat _us_!"

"It's not just any ordinary rock," Havoc said. "It's the Rock of Justice. For killing Suzie, you wolf bastard, I bestow upon thee the Rock of Justice! Now suffer!"

With that, Havoc pulled his arm back and threw the rock straight at the large animal. The rock flew and hit the wolf directly between the eyes, but the animal didn't even flinch. Instead, it just flared its nostrils, dropped the deer from its mouth, and slowly stood up on all four legs. It pulled back its ears and began to growl dangerously.

"Oh, this is just great. Good job, you idiot," Falman grumbled, slowly backing away. "You just made it angry!"

"Huh … I really thought the rock would do the trick." Havoc mused.

The wolf took a step forward and barked.

"Oh my god, we're going to die…" Havoc moaned. "He killed Suzie and now he's going to kill us…"

Just then, the wolf leaped over the dead fawn and ran toward the two men. Both of them yelped and began to run as fast as their legs could take them.

"We're going to die!" Havoc wailed. "Oh god, I'm going to die single!"

"Just shut up and keep running! We might be able to outrun it!"

"That's rich. You think we can outrun _that?"_

Falman turned and saw the wolf, running at them with all its might, with foam coming out of its mouth. "We're going to die!" He cried. "And it's your entire fault!"

"_My _fault? Who was the idiot who said we should go deeper into the woods because _'all the good trees are there'_?" Havoc shouted.

"Whoa, whoa! Are you really putting the blame on me? Who was the idiot who tried to adopt a freakin' deer! _'Oh no, Sally! Wah, you killed Sally! I'm going to throw a rock at the big scary wolf because, _obviously_, that's the smart thing to do'_."

"Her name was Suzie, you asshole!" Havoc screamed.

"Who cares! We're going to die! And then Hughes is going to kill us again because we didn't bring him his stupid tree!"

Havoc's eyes suddenly widened and he turned quickly. Vato followed him, confused, "Where the hell are you going?"

"The axe! We left the axe with the tree! We could kill the wolf with the axe!" Havoc yelled enthusiastically. Falman swallowed and looked back. Sweat fell from his forehead when he saw that the wolf was still on their tail, and advancing quickly.

"Listen," Havoc huffed suddenly, gasping for air. "You – run … that way – distract … then I come – Bam! – dead!" He pulled a face at himself, '_damn, I'm out of shape…'_

"I can't understand you." Falman wheezed out of breath.

"Just run that way!" Jean said quickly and impatiently. "Go!"

With nothing else that he could do, Vato obeyed and turned around. Much to his horror, the wolf began to chase _him. _The animal was barking hysterically at him and Falman began to weep inwardly.

He ran so hard that his feet began to burn and his lungs began to expand. Sweat fell like a waterfall from his forehead his breaths came out in tiny clouds.

After a while, Falman lost track of time, running for so long it felt like hours have passed that he just started running in circles, the wolf not planning on letting its prey escape.

'Oh god, I'm going to die in the woods by a dog.' Falman thought in horror. 'They're going to find my body covered in blood and they won't be able to identify it since it'll be so mutilated. Everyone's going to make fun of me at my funeral and say I got murdered by a puppy. And that bastard Havoc will get away because he's a bastard and then he'll eat all my chocolate cake.'

Falman frowned. 'I'm definitely haunting his ass."

The growling seemed to be getting louder, and when Vato turned around to see why, he jumped in surprise to see the wolf literally inches away from him.

"Goddammit, Havoc!" He shouted. "Help me!"

As if on cue, Falman watched as Havoc appeared from the crowd of trees, wielding the large axe in both hands.

The blonde man swung, bringing the axe down on the wolf's back. The large canine made a noise similar to a pained keening and it limply fell to the ground.

Falman blinked. He stared at the animal that lay bleeding on the ground and started to laugh, "I-I survived! Ha, ha! I'm alive!"

"You're welcome." Havoc grumbled, pulling the axe off the dead animal.

"And where the hell have you been?" Falman asked after catching his breath.

"I was getting the axe," he answered, as if the answer was obvious, while holding up the axe to show him that yes, he did get the axe.

Falman sniffed suspiciously. "You smell like cigarettes," he accused unbelievably.

The other man shrugged, "It helps relieve stress."

"That's it! This is the LAST time I go ANYWHERE with you!" Falman decided, moving his hands with emphasis.

"Oh, please. You love me." Jean scoffed. "Now, since I was the brave hero in this story, and I saved your life, I have decided that you will be the lucky one and carry the tree back."

Falman grimaced. "...fine. But this is still all your fault. Making friends with a deer...idiot."

"Hey! What Suzie and I had was special! She understood me!"

Falman grumbled, "yeah, yeah, whatever." He looked at the dead animal that lay bleeding by his feet. "Are you sure it's dead?"

"Of course it's dead. No one can survive a swing like that; I have the arm of a God!"

The warrant officer rolled his eyes.

Havoc crouched down at eye level with the limp animal and poked at its nose, "How do you like that, you little jerk. That's what happens to idiots who kill something that Jean Havoc loves! Haha! Burn in wolf hell!"

Havoc gave one last jibe at its nose and the animal's ears suddenly twitched. Both Havoc and Falman shrieked wildly and scramble away. Jean pulled out his gun from his pocket and fired all the rounds it had at the wolf. Its body shook when each bullet penetrated it's body and it's gray fur was now coated in red.

Havoc breathed heavily and then flinched with Falman's voice erupted, "YOU HAD A GUN WITH YOU THIS WHOLE TIME!"

Havoc looked at his hand weapon and said stupidly, "Huh...must have forgotten that I brought it with me..."

Falman made a noise similar to choking, "This whole time ... While you made a freakin wolf chase me – for God knows how long – so you can get an axe AND ALL THIS TIME YOU COULD HAVE JUST SHOT THE DAMN THING!"

"Relax, man..." Havoc said uneasily. This was the first time he's ever seen Falman react to something this strongly, and it was pretty scary. "We're okay, see. We're all good."

"No, we are not 'all good', Havoc. We're not! Running around in this freezing place, being chased by one of the deadliest carnivores in the world is NOT okay!"

Falman suddenly fell to his knees and whimpered, "Hughes probably ate all the chocolate cake by now."

Havoc looked at his feet and then shyly said, "If you're _that_ hungry ... We can always make a fire and cook the wolf. I heard they taste like chicken."

Falman glared at the other man so heatedly that Jean began to sweat. "That's it! I'm done!" he picked himself up and began marching away.

"Whoa, hey! Where are you going? We need to get the tree!" Havoc called after him.

"You get the tree," Falman said. "I'm going home."

With that, Falman walked away, with Havoc staring at him.

The blonde man frowned. "Fine," he said to no one in particular. "I don't need him. I'll bring the tree and take all the credit. Then I'll get my sweet, delicious pie. Screw that idiot; it's his entire fault Suzie died in the first place…"

Little did Havoc know, Falman had taken the car they arrived with; his only means of transportation.

Hours later, somebody loudly knocked on The Hughes' front door and Maes answered it.

"Havoc! Oh ... Wow, you don't look so good." Maes greeted awkwardly.

Jean – sweaty, dirty, and caked with dirt and mud – glared at Hughes. "Here's your tree," he grumbled, dropping the rope that was tied around the tree.

The older man took one look at the tree and gushed like a schoolgirl, "My tree! It's perfect! I can't wait to get it up! Oh, Havoc, thank you so much! I can't wait to take pictures of it when it's decorated and all pretty!"

Havoc grumbled something inaudible and moved to get inside the apartment room, but Hughes stopped him and clicked his tongue a few times. "Nope, you are not coming into my home like that! You'll get dirt everywhere!" He eyed the blonde suspiciously, "How did you manage to get that dirty, anyway?"

Havoc gave one disbelieving look and erupted, "Well _MAYBE_ if I had a _CAR_, I wouldn't have had to carry a freakin' tree _ALL THE WAY DOWN A HILL AND ACROSS CENTRAL_! But _NO_, because _SOMEONE_ decided to throw a tantrum and LEAVE me in the freakin' woods! _ALONE AND COLD."_

Maes eyed him carefully and then said, "So, you want a car for Christmas?"

Jean threw up his hands, as if surrendering, "Never mind! I'm just tired, but I'm glad to be here – where it's warm. Now I can finally get a piece of that apple pie you promised me."

But his smile slipped from his face when he saw Hughes' facial expression change into something painful.

"What?" Havoc asked, panic lacing his voice.

"Well ... Uh ... Don't get mad but ... you see… " Hughes stalled lamely.

"What?" Jean repeated, more harshly then he intended.

Hughes held his hands up defensively and answered quickly, "There was only one piece left and he came here first and he said that you don't mind if he took the last one and he said that you don't even like apple pie and – "

"WHO!" Havoc demanded, grabbing the older man's shoulders.

Hughes smiled sheepishly and pointed behind him. Havoc looked.

In the room across, a rotating chair spun around with Falman in it, a plate filled with crumbs in one hand and a fork with a small piece of pie in the other. Falman smirked and popped the fork into his mouth and said, "Good Evening, Lieutenant Havoc."

The blonde's jaw touched the ground and Falman smirked triumphantly. He stood up and swallowed the dessert, "Oh my, Jean. You don't look so good. You look as if you've _been chased around a whole forest by a wolf._ I do hope you're okay. Here, have an apple pie. Oh, silly me. I ATE THE LAST ONE._"_

Havoc made an undefinable noise that sounded like he had been kicked in the kidney and threw up his hands in agony.

Falman laughed at the man's despair and sat back down, "Ah, this is going to be a great Christmas."

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><p><strong>((UNEDITED))<strong>

((Expect a chapter everyday until Christmas! Please review, because I really want to know if I did well on this chapter!))

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><p><strong>NEXT CHAPTER: <strong>_Characters: Alphonse Elric, Kain Fuery_


	2. The Second Day

**The Twelve Days of Disaster**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: Well, whatd'ya know! I own nothing!<strong>

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><p><em><strong>The Second Day<strong>_

**Characters:** Kain Fuery, Alphonse Elric

**Summary:** Fuery and Al take little Elicia to the Christmas Carnival for some unexpected fun!

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><p>"And remember; don't buy her any cotton candy because she gets extremely hyper after just one."<p>

"Maes…"

"Also, when she complains about her feet hurting, she's lying. She just wants to be carried. "

"Maes … dear …"

"And! No soda! Soda rots her teeth, so do NOT give her soda!"

"Honey," Gracia said loud enough that it stopped her husband's rant. "I think they get it."

Maes smiled sheepishly and looked at the two he was talking to, "Ah, right. Sorry guys."

Alphonse chuckled. "It's fine," he said.

"Yeah, we understand," Fuery piped from next to the suit of armor. The small man looked down when he felt something tugging on his pants' sleeve and smiled at who it was.

"Let's go," Elicia whined, stomping her little foot on the ground defiantly.

"But don't you want to say bye to your mom and dad first?" Al asked the little girl.

Her whole dress fluttered from under her puffy jacket when she jumped up and down impatiently,"I wanna play! I wanna play!"

Gracia laughed at her daughter's actions and bent down to give her a kiss on the forehead, "Don't worry, sweetie. You have all day to play with your big brothers, so make sure you have lots of fun."

"I will!" The girl declared, her pig tails dancing as she nodded her head. Maes bit his lip as it trembled and tackled Elicia in a bear hug, "Daddy's gonna miss you so much, my little angel!"

Elicia laughed playfully as she tried to push him. Hughes stood up and ruffled the girl's hair and sighed loudly. "Well, we'll be off then."

"Don't worry, Mister Hughes, we'll take good care of Elicia," Al assured the man, Fuery nodding rapidly in agreement.

"Thank you, boys. We really appreciate this," Gracia said sweetly. "And please, if anything happens or if you need anything, don't hesitate to call us. The restaurant isn't that far from here."

"We will," Fuery said.

"Alright-y then! We're off!" Hughes announced loudly. "Time for me to spoil the Misses with delicious and expensive food!"

Gracia blushed and rolled her eyes, "Really, darling. There are people staring…"

"Then let them stare and let them boil in jealousy!" Hughes bellowed. He grabbed his wife's hand and dragged her to the exit, waving a good bye while yelling, "Take good care of my princess!"

The suit of armor and the small man waved back while Elicia waved with both hands and yelled at the top of her lungs, "BYE DADDY! BYE MOMMY!"

When the Hughes couple were out of sight, Kain and Al, along with Elicia in the middle, started to walk toward the large carnival.

It was called "Central's Annual Christmas Carnival" – not much for creativity, it seemed, but the actual carnival was not as dull as its name.

In the center was the large, red and green Ferris Wheel that was as tall as a skyscraper and was always in motion and always packed with people coated in large jackets. Green and red balloon stands were placed in every corner, making the carnival livelier and more festive. There were also Merry-Go-Rounds, small rides that spun so quickly that it drags one's stomach as it moved, and other rides that Al didn't have a name for because he was always too scared to go on one.

"So, Elicia," Kain was saying. "Which ride do you want to go on first?"

"Hmm," the girl thought. She looked around once, twice, and then pointed, "The big one!"

"The Ferris Wheel?" Kain paled.

"Yeah! Yeah!"

Fuery swallowed, which Al quickly noticed. "What's wrong?" He asked.

"Ah, nothing. Just, not a fan of heights." Kain mumbled.

"Oh," Al said. "Well, it helps if you don't look down."

Kain nodded, but he didn't look convinced.

The group of three waited on line for about twenty minutes until they were finally seated on their carts and the large structure began to lift them up slowly.

Elicia began to squeal in excitement as they ascended higher and higher off the ground and all the while Fuery was having a silent panic attack.

He clawed at his knees and chewed on his lips, his eyes darting from side to side, as if looking for a suitable escape route if anything were to happen.

Alphonse couldn't help but stare at the anxiety filled man and giggle softly. It was just how he used to act on high rides when he was little, Al mused.

"Fuery, you don't have to be so scared," Al said calmly, a smile hinting his voice.

The small man shook his head, "N-no, I'm not scared. I'm just worried."

"Worried?"

Fuery looked around, to make sure nobody was around to hear, and leaned closely to Al's helmet, "I don't trust this thing.."

Al cocked his head to the side in confusion, "How so?"

"It doesn't look safe at all, I mean, look at the guy who's conducting it!"

Al leaned his head out the cart and looked down. On the ground, was a young man leaning against the control box, picking his nose.

"What's wrong with him?" Al asked.

"He doesn't look fit to control something this big and complicated. What if he accidentally presses the wrong button and we all go shooting out of our seats? Or he pulls the wrong lever and the whole wheel just falls to the ground?" Fuery asked, his voice coated in panic.

Elicia scrunched up her face and began harshly poking at man. "Ow - OW - stop it!" He frowned.

"No," the three year old said strictly. "You did this last year, scaredy cat! Stop crying."

Fuery looked horrified, "I am not a scaredy cat!"

"You guys came here last year?" Al asked curiously.

Fuery nodded, "Yeah, Hughes hassled all of us into coming. He had bought a brand new camera and was going wild with it, taking pictures of almost everything. He forced us all into rides with Elicia just to take pictures of all of us to put in one of his albums. It was so embarrassing." He shuddered softly and continued, "Then out of nowhere, the camera just ... exploded."

"Exploded?" the boy gasped unbelievably.

"Yeah, it just burst. Some of us think that the Colonel managed to sneak in a spark and burn it, but in reality, we all know what really happened. The poor thing committed suicide." He sighed softly, "Maybe it was for the best."

Al hummed thoughtfully and then asked, "what happened after that?"

"All hell broke loose," Fuery whispered. "Hughes went to the gift shop and bought a new camera. He made us retrace our footsteps and retake _every_ picture we took. It took hours! And it was so cold. You and your brother should count yourselves lucky you weren't here at the time."

By now, their cart had been lifted to the highest point and Elicia was looking down with pure amusement, waving down at the people on the ground and calling them ants.

"By the way, why didn't Ed come with us today?" the small man decided to ask after a moment.

"Um, Brother doesn't really like carnivals.."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he actually _hates_ them for a really dumb reason. The last time we went was when we were little. He got into a fight with one of the workers because they said he was too short to get on one of the rides, which he really was, so he kicked the guy in the knee really hard and they kicked him out." Al explained bemoursley. That was such an embarrassing time that he cringed when he had to remember it. Ed was in such a bad mood after the incident that he was spitting curses the whole ride home, cursing carnivals and 'the devils they work for'.

Fuery laughed out loud, "that sounds like something Ed would do."

The cart jerked slightly, signaling the end of the ride, and Kain blew out a sigh of relief when they touched the ground. Al helped Elicia off the ride and the trio walked further into the carnival.

"Alright, where to next?" Al asked.

Elicia looked around and gasped loudly. "Pony!" She cried out loudly.

A few yards away from them, was a round fence that contained three small horses (But apparently, in the mind of every child, a horse is always considered a pony), carelessly grazing the naked ground.

The small girl let to go of Al's gloved arm and darted toward the animals.

"Oh man.." Fuery groaned softly. "Horses are evil, evil creatures."

Al chose not to reply to that.

When they had arrived at the fences, Elicia was attempting to climb the fence that was three times her height. "PONY! PONY!" She screeched, as if the animals would yell back "ELICIA! ELICIA!"

Al picked the girl up and set her down on the ground. "Come on, Elicia, let's go ride the pony," Al said, gesturing for her to follow him to the entrance. "This way."

"YES!"

Fuery grudgingly followed them, all the while cringing away when one of the horses snorted. He watched as Al told the owner of the horses which horse Elicia requested demanded) to ride and the man nodded, picking up the three year old and placing her the black horse's saddled back.

Al came to Kain's side when she was all settled and they watched as the man led the horse with Elicia around the fence slowly. "Oh no..." Kain moaned softly.

"What's wrong?"

"That horse...I don't trust it," Kain said, his eyes set firmly on the black animal.

"You're being silly," Al scoffed. "The man told me that each horse is healthy and well trained. There's nothing to worry about."

"Yeah, but that horse. It just doesn't look right," he insisted, rubbing his hands together to warm himself. "I mean, a black horse? _Black?_ That's the color of death! That's just asking for something bad to happen!"

"There are lots of animals that have black hair and they're perfectly normal," Al tried to reason.

But it fell on deaf ears, and the other man leaned closely against the fence and muttered, "And not just its color, but it's eyes, Alphonse. Those eyes, I could swear to you that the devil has those same eyes!"

If it were possible, Al would have rolled his eyes, "Okay, now you're just being ridiculous." When Kain still looked convinced by his own evidence, Al continued, "I mean, think about it. These horses are all well trained and domesticated. They are all tamed and were taught to handle people on their backs and to be gentle and kind, so there's nothing to worry about."

Fuery scratched his leg with the heel of his other foot sheepishly and sighed, "Oh...well...I guess you're right..." Fuery finally said. He watched as the horse with the girl on its back made their way towards them. But then, Kain's poor little heart jumped when the horse stopped and shook its head, and then stomped one foot a few times before it continued walking onward. Fuery couldn't contain himself any longer, "ELICIA! GET OFF! THE HORSE IS POSSESSED!"

Hearing the shout, Elicia turned her whole body to look puzzlingly at the person who called her name, and to Kain's horror, the horse turned to look at him as well.

The moment the horse's narrow eyes caught glimpse of the giant suit of armor that stood outside the fence, it completely freaked out. It pulled back on the reigns in attempt to back away, kicked its hind legs up viciously and pulled back like a dog does when it plays tug-of-war with its maser. And all the while, Elicia clapped her hands joyfully; laughing without a care in the world and the man in charge of the horses struggled to control the spooked horse with evident difficulty.

"I told you! I told you!" Fuery wailed miserably. "Its evil! An Evil horse! It's the Devil's horse!"

"No – no! It's fine!" Al tried to reassure the panicking man, all the while wishing that the horse owner would either control the animal or get Elicia off of it.

Then suddenly, the man lost his grip on the horse's reigns and the black beast broke free, running blind circles around the fence. Elicia's face painted a picture of pure excitement, completely unaware of how dangerous it looked from Al's perspective. Fuery was shaking at the fence dramatically, all the while screaming, "Have mercy! Have mercy!"

The horse ran a few more laps before it began to slow down and the man was finally able to get it to stop. The first thing the man did – which Al was completely grateful for – was get Elicia off its back. The girl was giggling uncontrollably when she was made her way to her caretakers and when she reached them, she was hysterically laughing. "Fun! Fun!"

Fuery hurriedly gobbled her in a large hug, "Elicia! Oh thank god, I thought I had lost you! I'm so glad you're okay! Are you hurt anywhere; are you alright?"

"Again, Again!" Elicia cried happily.

Fuery paled. "Are you suicidal!" He exclaimed loudly, and the girl answered him with a pile of chuckles.

"Um … Fuery," Al began to say when they started walking to the food district. "I think you need to calm down a little. You're worrying too much when you should be relaxing."

"I know! I'm sorry! I just can't help it!" He moaned miserably. "I promise I won't freak out again."

Al – uselessly – scratched the back of his sheepishly and said, "its okay. Just, um, try to relax."

"I will," he said with a smile.

He didn't.

When Al had bought the two their lunches – two hamburgers and some fries – Fuery rounded up the food as if it were a ticking time bomb. "Did you check to make sure the meat is real?" He had asked. "There aren't any fingers in the fries, right? Because that could happen. That ketchup looks awfully similar to blood…Oh god, what if they killed the chef because they didn't like his cooking and they used his blood as ketchup and his fingers as fries and his flesh as hamburger meat? Elicia! You cannibal, don't eat that! Hurry, Al! Go return it and warn everyone else!"

After they had eaten lunch - and calmed Fuery down - Elicia insisted on buying 'dessert', and if Al remembered correctly, Hughes had warned them that Elicia's definition of 'dessert' was a whole bunch of candy and sugar. So Al allowed Fuery to go with the girl so she could pick out _one_ candy treat of her choice, and he was sure to remind Kain to _not _buy her cotton candy.

Al was a patient boy and always knew how to manage a situation, but balancing a man who attracted disaster and a girl high on sugar was not something he knew he could handle. Fuery reassured Al not to worry and that he _won't_ buy her the cotton candy.

He bought her the cotton candy.

"Oh…I thought you said to _only _buy her the cotton candy…whoops," Fuery explained awkwardly. The little Hughes girl wiped her pink stained mouth and grinned, "Yum, yum, yum, yum, yum!"

If it were possible, Al began to sweat nervously. "Okay. This is okay. You just gave her one, right?"

"Yup."

"Then it's not like she'll go crazy or anything, right?" Al babbled anxiously. "It was one cotton candy, it won't do any harm, Mister Hughes will understand, right?"

"…Uh…Yup!"

"All we need to do is keep an eye on her, and everything will be okay."

That whole time, though, they weren't keeping an eye on her. Elicia wasn't next to Fuery anymore.

"Elicia! Oh man, where'd she go!" Al practically screamed.

"… I probably should have mentioned that I bought her a _really _big cotton candy," Fuery murmured tearfully. "Hughes is going to kill me! He's going to be so mad that I lost his daughter that he'll chop me up into little pieces with his knives and then he'll make the Colonel roast me and then he'll feed me to everyone on Christmas!"

"C-Calm down, Fuery!" Al cried, shaking the man's shoulders. "We won't be able to find her if we panic!"

"We won't be able to find her anyways! She could be anywhere!"

"She couldn't have gone that far," Al thought out loud. "If we split up, we might be able to find her before Hughes gets back."

"S-Split up?" Fuery blanched. "But what if that Demon Horse comes back to … _finish the job. _I'll be completely defenseless!"

Al was now beginning to doubt whether this man was actually an adult like he said he was. How the Colonel put up with him was _beyond _him. "That won't happen, trust me. Now listen, you go to where the Ferris wheel is and I'll look around here. That way, we'll most likely be able to find her before five o'clock."

They didn't find her before five o'clock.

"What are we going to do! Hughes said he'll be back at half past five! He's going to murder us if we don't find her!" Fuery screamed.

Al was at a loss himself. He searched all around the petting zoo, the food courts, and the small kiddie rides and there were no signs of Elicia anywhere. Fuery apparently had the same results, and was slowly beginning to melt into a puddle of misery.

"She could be anywhere by now!" Kain was screaming. "She was probably kidnapped by a bunch of clowns and left to Xing! They're probably trying to convert her into their evil clown religion as we speak and they'll teach her how to convert horses into demons! Oh god, we made Hughes' daughter into an evil clown! He'll slaughter us for sure!"

"Just, uh, don't panic…" Al was slowly losing the ability to say helpful things. "Just…We'll look again! You go that way and I'll go, uh, this way."

So then Alphonse scrambled off into the direction opposite of Fuery, with the young man shouting after him, "But I don't know where to look!"

"Look for what?" A voice asked from him and Fuery shrieked. He spun around quickly and had to will himself not to faint at the sight of the couple.

"L-L-L-Lieutenant C-C-C-Colonel Hughes!" He stuttered pathetically.

Hughes slapped the man on the back, "What's up, Fuery," while Gracia gave a pleasant, "Hello".

"H-How was your lunch..?" He managed to squeak out.

"It was great! I'm so stuffed I just might explode. I don't think I've ever eaten that much in my life!" Hughes pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose and looked behind the small man. "Say, Fuery, where's my little princess, Elicia?"

"ELICIA?" Fuery yelled for no particular reason. "WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME? YOU'RE HER PARENT, YOU SHOULD KNOW!"

Hughes squinted his eyes, "…because you were supposed to watch her."

"I DID WATCH HER! WHY ARE YOU ACTING AS IF I DIDN' T WATCH HER? I WATCHED HER AND I HAVENT STOPPED WATCHING HER."

"Why are you shouting?"

"I'M NOT SHOUTING. WHY ARE YOU SHOUTING?"

Hughes opened his mouth to say something but decided against it and said instead, "Just, never mind. Where's Elicia? Is she with Al?"

"AL? OF COURSE SHE'S AL. DIDN'T I TELL YOU THAT ALREADY?"

"Uh…no."

"YES I DID. SHE'S WITH AL. THERE I TOLD YOU. PAY ATTENTION!" Fuery screamed, his whole body shaking with fear. "I'M GOING TO GO FIND AL NOW, BECAUSE HE HAS ELICIA, YOUR DAUGHTER, WHO IS NOT LOST AND WHO IS NOT CURRENTLY BEING CONVERTED INTO AN EVIL CLOWN."

With that, and with nothing else to say, Fuery _ran _away from the couple as fast as his little feet could carry him.

"Is it me," Hughes began. "Or is that man _really _odd?"

Near the Ferris wheel, Fuery caught glimpse of Alphonse. "Al! Al! We have a problem! Hughes is here and he's looking for Elicia."

"Uh…" Al hesitated. "I think we have a bigger problem…"

"What do you – " but he stopped talking when he followed Al's pointed finger up to the Ferris wheel . Fuery's jaw dropped. Two carts away, dangling on one of the poles that helped carry the steel basket, was a three year old having the time of her life.

"HOW DID SHE GET UP THERE!"

"I don't know!" Al replied, his voice just as shrill as the Master Sergeant's. "I was just looking around and I heard her laughing from above me just a second ago."

"What do we do? Hughes will be here any second and –"

"Hey guys!" This time, both Al and Fuery shrieked loudly.

"M-Mister Hughes!" Al said.

"Hey Al," Hughes greeted, his voice in its normal cheerful manner. "Gracia went to start the car for us, so we need to get going." He paused and cocked his head to the side, "Say, if you're here then where's – "

"OH MY GOD, LOOK OVER THERE!" Fuery cried loudly, furiously pointing at nothing in particular.

"…I don't see anything," The older man said uneasily.

"SURE YOU DO! ITS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU. QUICK, LETS GO SEE IT!" He grabbed at Hughes' hand and began to drag him away, forcing his back to Alphonse.

Al understood what Kain was doing – partially – and took out a piece of chalk and began to scribble a transmutation circle on the ground quickly. He turned to be sure that Hughes' was still being – lamely – distracted and pressed his hands on the drawn circle. Blue lights flashed and a portion of the ground began to life, raising him high enough to pluck Elicia from the rails. As quickly as it raised, the ground descended and once they touched the ground, Elicia yelped happily.

"More! More! More!" She recited. "More! More! MORE!"

Probably from hearing his daughter's chants, Hughes turned around and gushed at the sight of his daughter. "Look at my little Elicia! Did you miss daddy? I bet you did!"

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" She sang impishly. Hughes made to hug her but paused at the sight of the cotton candy stains splattered around her mouth.

Fuery swallowed deeply when Hughes stood and glared at the two of them. "You gave her cotton candy?" He asked, his tone dangerously low.

Fuery jumped, "I'm SORRY! I didn't know! It was a mistake! Please don't skin me alive and make me into a rug and then stuff my body and hang me on the wall!"

"Relax, Fuery," He said. "I'm not mad; surprised, really. Whenever my pumpkin eats cotton candy, you see, she goes on this wild rampage where she does the most UNBELIEVABLE things. Ha ha, but it looks like you guys could handle her well. " He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and said, "You two would make a great babysitting team, you know that?"

Fuery rubbed the back of his sheepishly while Al just shook his head in exasperation.

Now he understood why Ed hated carnivals so much.

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><p><strong>((UNEDITED))<strong>

((Be prepared for the daily updates to come at his hour ^.^ ALSO REVIEW PLEASE!))

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><p><strong>NEXT CHAPTER:<strong>_ Characters: Heymans Breda, Edward Elric_


	3. The Third Day

**The Twelve Days of Disaster**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I own nothing.<strong>

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><p><em><strong>The Third Day<strong>_

**Characters:**Edward Elric, Heymans Breda

**Summary:** Edward and Breda are stuck on the decorating committee for Hughes. The old saying, "If you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything" does not apply here.

((AN- In this fic, Hughes lives in a house, not apartment.))

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><p>It was only December 15th, and yet it felt like it was January 15th; the air was frigid and painful and yet, no snow had fallen so far. It had rained a few times, yes, but none of that fluffy white had fallen from the large clouds.<p>

Ed shivered again when a cold blast of air hit him and raised his arm to ring the bell but the door opened before his finger could touch the button.

Unsurprisingly, Maes answered. "Ed! I'm so glad you came! Come in, come in. You must be freezing."

Ed didn't answer. He figured that the fact that he was bundled in a large jacket and being suffocated by a wool scarf was an answer all on its own.

He was met with a splash of warmth when he entered the room and he sagged in sweet relief. "Ah, warmth," Ed moaned. "How I love you so."

"Just hang your jacket on the rack," Hughes was saying, Ed now taking in the appearance of the man. He was wearing a small apron that read, "KISS THE CHEF" with little hearts surrounding the words and he stifled his laughter. "Breda's already here, so make yourself comfortable while I get the stuff."

Edward nodded and did as he was told. When he made it to the living room, he was taken aback by how _huge _that pine tree was. It was almost intimidating, and Ed was a little taken back that a tree was able to grow that _big. _Its top was being squished by the ceiling! How Hughes managed to get that thing in here was a mystery Ed wasn't planning on solving.

"So Hughes managed to wrangle you in, too, huh?" Ed heard someone say, and when he turned, that someone turned out to be Breda, who was idly half sitting, half lying on the couch. The man scoffed, "so, how'd he manage to get you to come?"

Ed's face darkened slightly, "he threatened to uninvite me to the dinner party."

"Ouch," Breda grimaced. "He played the food card, eh? He told me I either come today or go to yesterday's carnival with his kid."

"You chose wisely," Ed remarked bitterly. "Carnivals are evil, evil places."

Just then, Hughes barged into the room holding a large, brown box that _jingled_ every time the man took a step forward. "All right-y then!" He exclaimed, setting the box down and stretching his back dramatically. "Here are the ornaments for the tree and when you're all done with that, I'll come and hand you the box with the decorations for the house."

"Whoa, whoa!" Ed suddenly said. "You told me that we were only decorating the tree! Nobody said anything about the whole house!"

"How rude, Ed," Hughes frowned playfully. "Are you really that heartless as to let my house be naked without any shiny lights on Christmas? Why, I'll be the laughing stock of the whole neighborhood."

"I don't care if you're the freakin' _mayor _of your neighborhood! I am not breaking my back to hang some lights on your house." Ed declared, folding his arms.

"Either this or no food."

Ed did a double take and sagged to the floor. "Jerk," he mumbled.

"Hey, don't get all down in the dumps," Breda said. "It's the holidays, cheer up!"

"That's the spirit, Breda!" Hughes laughed. "Now, when you're all done, I'll be in the kitchen planning the Christmas cards. Oh, this is so fun!" With that, the man actually _skipped _out of the room, leaving the two occupants to stare at the box.

"Well, better get started," Breda said, standing up and walking towards the box. "You hand me the ornaments and I'll hang them up, sound good?"

"Fine by me," the kid said off handily, seating himself next to the box and reaching inside, feeling for the knickknacks.

The first one he pulled out was a tiny white snowman. "Cute," Ed murmured, inspecting the thing. "Too cliché, though." He handed it to Breda who tied the loop around one of the trees branches, allowing the piece to dangle playfully.

Next was a red and white candy cane. "I bet you the edible ones cost a fraction of what this glass one cost," Ed said. "What a waste." He handed it to the 2nd Lieutenant.

Then came a small, cotton, red and white sock, "Like I've never seen that one before."

Next, a tiny sleigh, "Is this thing made for rats?"

Then, a penguin, "What the hell does this thing have to do with Christmas?"

A small Christmas tree, "A Christmas tree on a Christmas tree? God damn."

A reindeer with a red nose, "Gee, I wonder who this could be."

Then, a plain red bauble, "Wow, how original…" When he handed it to Breda, the man swiped it from his hand impatiently and said, "You don't have to comment on _every one _of them, you know."

"I'm bored, give me a break," Ed said. He pulled out another ornament and scoffed dramatically, "_Really? _Santa Claus on a surfboard? Is he serious? Who the hell makes these things?"

"Okay, how about we switch positions?" Breda said quickly and annoyingly. "You just hang them up, while I give them to you."

"Fine, fine."

Now it was Breda who was sitting on the floor and Edward who was standing over him.

Heymans dug through the box and pulled out some round, colorful baubles and handed them to Ed. He heard the kid snort and mumble something along the lines of "more of these things?"

Breda then pulled out round plates with pictures of dogs and kittens painted on them. He thought it was pretty cute and sweet, especially with the way their eyes were painted (big and sparkly.) When he handed it to the kid, he snorted obnoxiously and coughed a few times to cover his laughs.

The man ignored the kid and continued to grab at more decorations – more candy canes, flowers, ribbons, a cute, small, golden bell, and even a small snow globe – and Ed always had a comment for each one – "Stupid. Stupid. Extremely stupid. This one is just sad".

When Breda turned around to tell the kid to shut up, his eyes widened at the sight of the Christmas tree. "What the hell did you do!"

Ed looked confused and annoyed, "What are you talking about? I hung them up, just like you told me."

Indeed, Ed did hang them up, but for some odd reason, he only hung them up on one spot. On one branch of the tree were about ten ornaments huddling next to each other. Breda slapped his forehead, "_'Hang them up' _also entails hanging them _around_. Spread them out, you idiot! Don't make them clutter against one another! Do you know how stupid it looks now?"

"Alright, jeez! Calm down, will you," Edward said irritably. "It's not my fault this tree is so big. I can't reach anywhere…"

"…maybe 'cause you're too short…" Breda grumbled under his breath.

At that, Ed spun around so fast, his hair actually made a _whooshing_ sound, "I HEARD THAT, YOU ASS!"

Breda rolled his eyes and just turned his back on the kid, reaching into the box, "Just hurry up and scatter them around."

Ed, too, turned his back, "Yeah, make _me _do all the work while you just sit there and do nothing like the fat ass you are."

This time, it was Breda's hair that made a whipping-like noise, "DON'T CALL ME FAT!"

"It's true isn't it!"

"NO!"

Ed laughed. "What, you think you're skinny?"

"I _THINK_ I'M NOT FAT," Breda growled.

"Well, you thought wrong!" Ed sneered mockingly, a sly smirk plastered on his face. "You are the _definition _of fat!"

"I'm _NOT _fat! I just come from a family of big-boned people," Breda defended.

"You mean big-_fat_ people," Ed mocked, and then laughed out loud at Breda's fuming face.

The man inhaled deeply and then said, "At least I'm not a super small _MIDGET!"_

Ed chocked on his laughter and glared, "I am not small, you _cow!"_

"Cow? _Cow! _ This coming from the kid who can't even reach to pet the head of a _baby _cow!" Breda shot back immaturely.

"I'm sorry, I see your mouth moving but all I hear is, 'MOO! MOO!'" Ed mocked.

"What? I can't hear you! Why don't you climb up a little higher so I could look at you when you speak!"

"MOO! _MOOOO!"_

Hughes chose that moment to walk into the room, "What the hell is all that noise?" He regretted asking that the second it slipped from his mouth. Heymans and Edward began yelling at the same time, probably trying to explain to him the situation, but he couldn't understand any of them. Although, he could have sworn that he heard someone make cow noises.

"Okay – Alright! – hey! – SHHHHHH!" Hughes yelled. The two of them stopped their yelling and waited for Maes to talk. The man continued in a huff, "Well, apparently you two can't work in tight spaces or on simple tasks. So we'll just do the house decorating instead; I'll leave the tree to Elicia."

Ed and Breda both mumbled a "fine" and "whatever" and stalked out of the room, silently glaring at the other. Breda's glare said something like, _'If you say one more stupid thing, I'll punch you so hard you'll need to get automail for your face,' _while Ed's glare said, _'If I hear you say one more short joke, I'll kick your ass so bad that it'll leave a footprint on your fat'._

They put on their coats and when they opened the door that led outside, a gust of cold – not even wind or air, just cold. Plain, cold, cold – smacked them in the face. Ed's teeth clattered so hard that Breda actually heard it and laughed, "What's wrong, pipsqueak? Can't take a little chill?"

"It's not my fault that I'm not protected by ten layers of fat like _a certain_ fat ass." Ed countered, rubbing his arms harshly. "It should be illegal for the weather to be this cold!"

Hughes pushed past the two, an even bigger box then before in his hands. "Now," He began. "Be _very _careful with these lights; they're old and very delicate _and _expensive. So, if I hear one bulb break, I will take away your dessert." The two of them swallowed tightly making Hughes smile delightfully, "Great! You two have fun! The ladder is in the garage and the outlets are right next to it."

When the door closed after him, Breda looked at the house. A two story complex, with five windows and at least a hundred feet tall. Great. He looked at the box, which Ed was currently examining himself and trying to untangle the large knot of wires. "Crap…" the boy muttered.

"You work on that," Breda said amusingly. "And I'll go get the ladder."

"Whatever," Ed muttered. "This is nothing."

But when Heymans returned with the tall ladder, Ed hand somehow entangled himself _in _the knot. Breda slapped his forehead, "How is it even possible to get yourself like _that?"_

"Shut up!" Ed cried. "This isn't fun for me, you know! These light bulbs are painful!"

"Why don't you just crawl out? You _are _small enough, aren't you?" Heymans mused.

"How about you just eat them for me? You eat everything that's in front of you, so this should be no trouble at all," Ed said with feigned cheerfulness.

"How about I whack you with the ladder and _completely _stunt your growth?" Breda sneered with a smirk.

"How about – you – shut up! Just get me out of here!"

Breda laughed. _Victory, sucker! _He fumbled with the lights a little while and after a few minutes of struggling, he managed to untangle Ed and the lights whole. "Since you and the wires don't seem to get along so well," Breda began. "I'll hang up the lights while you just put the lawn decorations up."

Ed grunted but complied. When Breda carried the wires and began to climb the ladder, Edward reached in and pulled out the decorations that were meant to be placed on the front lawn for every passerby to see.

One was a reindeer, another a Santa Claus and the last one was a snowman, each flat and embodied by lights. "Because no one thought to put these up before…" Ed mumbled humorlessly at the tacky idea.

He pinned each one onto the soil and connected the wires to the outlet in the back. When he connected the wires to the holes, each one of the lawn pieces lit up in brilliant colors. The Santa one a vibrant red, the reindeer was a dazzling yellow and the snowman was a brilliant blue. Ed looked back at his work with his arms folded and his posture held up with pride. _'Awesome work, Elric,' _Ed chimed to himself with a cocky smile. _'You've outdone yourself. Again. You little rascal, you're too awesome for your own good.'_

But something was missing. It didn't look right. It didn't _feel _right. Ed hummed to himself thoughtfully, _'These things look too plain. What they need is a little Edward Elric touchup!'_

Ed grinned. A little fix up wouldn't hurt anyone, right?

Right.

So Ed clapped his hands and touched the Santa Claus light. Blue light flared and when the light diminished, the transmutation was complete and Ed smiled at his master piece. He had added a little gothic touch to the lawn decoration. Instead of the ordinary Santa hat, it was a helmet with two horns and instead of Santa just waving his hand carelessly, an axe was put in his palm.

Perfect.

"What the hell did you do!" He heard Breda's voice yell from a distance and cringed.

Breda was staring down at him from the top of the ladder with anger and annoyance. The man had already completed hanging the lights on the first floor and he was now working on the roof's gutters, his hand holding a smaller pile of lights than before.

The man fumed, "Change it back, you idiot! This is Christmas, not Halloween!"

"What! Why! I made it look better!" Ed yelled back.

"You made it _worse!_"

"Hey! Don't diss my art! Nobody asked for your opinion!"

"Change. It. Back." Breda said exasperatedly. "Now! Or else I'll –"

But his shouting was cut off by the sound of his cry of surprise. Ed watched, as if it were happening in slow-motion rather than its actual speed, as Breda's footing slipped on the ladder and he ungracefully fell off. He fell head first and, it must have been a miracle that his left foot managed to tangle its self with the lights, swung crookedly in the air.

Breda was being hung by one foot, dangling like a dead fish upside down and began to mutter in a panicky voice, "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, OH SHIT!"

Ed couldn't help it. He laughed so hard that his side began to hurt. Over his laughs, Breda was screaming, "GET ME DOWN! GET ME DOWN!"

When Ed had finally calmed himself and wiped away the tears, he walked over to Breda's body that hung over twenty feet above him, "Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

"Just shut up and GET ME DOWN!" Breda yelled, his face already red from either the scare, the anger, or the blood rushing to his head.

"Let me think about that for a second…no."

"COME ON, ED! THIS ISN'T FUNNY!"

"Actually, if you were in my position, you'd think it was _really _funny." He said smartly.

"Ed, for the love of god, just get me DOWN!" Breda yelled.

"Alright! Fine, fine." He moved to clap his hands together, but a mischievous idea popped into his head and he grinned. "Call yourself fat."

"W-what?" Breda faltered.

"You heard me. Call yourself fat." Ed said, more seriously this time.

"Ed, for crying out loud –!"

"Do it or I leave you hanging!"

"...m'ft." Breda mumbled lowly.

"What was that?" Ed mocked. "I couldn't hear you."

" I said!" The man yelled, but then mumbled. "m'ft."

"I can't hear you!" Ed said in singsong.

"I'M FAT, OKAY!" Breda yelled, his patience running low.

"And say I'm not short."

"You're not short."

"And that I'm more awesome than you."

"…You're more awesome than me."

Ed grinned evilly and then said dangerously, "Moo for me."

"What!" Breda asked unbelievably.

"Moo." Ed repeated lowly. "I want to hear you moo."

"HELL NO!" Breda yelled. But the moment he yelled that, the wire slipped a little and jerked Breda down a few inches. The scare caused the man to shriek, "FINE! MOO! MOOO_! MOO! _HAPPY! NOW GET ME DOWN, PLEASE!"

"Ha HA! I WIN, ASSHOLE!" Ed laughed. The image of Breda dangling on the wire of lights will be one that he'll never forget. He's seen the same scenario in a few crappy movies, but this one beat all the others easily.

Ed sighed after laughing and clapped his hands and touched the wall of the house. A platform made from the wall of the house extended underneath Breda, giving him the leverage to untie the wires from his foot, his body falling harmlessly on the platform. He stood up and began climbing down the ladder, muttering a curse with every step. When he reached the ground, he glared at the kid.

"Don't worry, Breda," Ed said. "I'll make sure to tell _everyone _what a great cow impersonator you are."

"I hope you never hit your growth spurt!" Breda spat, turning around and walking into the house, ignoring Ed's 'moos.'

It was midnight when Breda finally finished putting up the lights. He had come out a few minutes after storming into the house angrily to finish his job.

He called Hughes and Ed to come see the house as he prepared to light it up.

When Maes and Ed were standing outside, Breda yelled from inside the garage, "YOU READY?"

Hughes nodded enthusiastically and jumped up and down, "YUP! I can't wait to see my beautiful house, all shiny and Christmas-y!"

Breda connected the wires and BAM! The house erupted in stunning red, yellow and green lights. The lights framed the doorway, the windows, the roof and the structure of the whole house and some of them even blinked into different colors.

"WOW!" Hughes exclaimed. "Wow, wow, WOW! This is AMAZING! No, more than amazing. ASTOUNDING! Its beautiful Breda, I love it! I can't thank you enough."

Breda smiled cockily at the compliments and his smile broadened when he heard Ed mutter, "…I don't see what's so special about it."

"Oh, but you haven't even seen the best part of it!" Breda said excitingly. "Wait for it…" He said, holding up his finger.

A few seconds passed when suddenly, BAM! A string of lights overlapped the original ones at the front of the house in a shining blue. But when Ed looked closer, he realized that it wasn't just random lights. It formed words…

EDWARD ELRIC IS SHORT! SHORT! SHORT!

"BREDA! I'M GOING TO MURDER YOU!"

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><p><strong>((UNEDITED))<strong>

((I'M EIGHTEEN MINUTES LATE WITH THIS ONE BUT I DONT GIVE A SHIT! ENJOY AND PLEASE REVIEW CAUSE YOUR REVIEWS ARE JUST PLAIN AWESOME!))

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><p><strong>NEXT CHAPTER:<strong> _Characters: Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye_


	4. The Fourth Day

**The Twelve Days of Disaster**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer<strong>**: I own nothing**.

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><p><strong>The Fourth Day<strong>

**Characters:** Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye

**Summary:** Mustang and Hawkeye run a little shopping errand for Hughes at the mall.

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><p>Mustang didn't know why, but whenever he told someone about how he's never been to Central's mall, they'd always find it amusing and funny.<p>

Mustang did not.

He didn't have time to do such trifle things like shop at a mall in the first place. They were always too crowded and filled with obnoxious people, especially during Christmas week.

When he had told Hawkeye that he had never bothered to visit the mall, she actually snorted in attempt to stifle a laugh.

"It's not funny," Roy grunted when the lieutenant allowed a chuckle to escape her mouth. "I have more important things to do than to aimlessly shop around in a large building with stuck up people."

"Of course, sir," She replied easily.

The two of them were currently walking in the parking lot of the massive plaza, side by side. It seemed that before the Christmas Dinner that the Hughes' were delicately planning, Maes had a few jobs for everyone to do before the day arrived. He also said that if someone didn't complete their assignment, they will not be fed.

_'That's a low blow, Hughes. Even for you,'_ Roy thought bitterly.

So, Havoc and Falman were in charge of bringing the tree, because for some strange reason, Hughes thought it was a sin to buy a Christmas tree at a store.

Alphonse and Fuery were on baby-sitting duty; watching little Elicia and playing with her in the carnival. Those poor saps. They should have realized by now that carnivals are evil, evil places.

Fullmetal and Breda were stuck with decorating, and if Mustang knew anything, it would be that the kid's tacky sense of style was bound to stir up trouble.

And now, the final two people who managed to escape Hughes' clutches until now were forced to go shopping for the man. They were even given a list – _"I want everything that's on that list, you got that, Roy? Don't slack off and 'forget' something! Hawkeye, go with him and make sure he actually does it."_ – That contained the following items:

_**- HAM AND CHICKEN**_

_**- SCENTED CANDLES AND CANDLE STANDS**_

_**- CHRISTMAS SONG RECORDS**_

_**-CHAMPAGNE GLASSES AND CHAMPAGNE (NO CHEAP CRAP)**_

_**-*ALSO MAKE SURE TO BUY A SMALL PRESENT FOR EVERYONE!**_

Mustang groaned inwardly. "BUY SMALL PRESENT FOR EVERYONE" was this small tradition Maes began where each one of them were supposed to buy everybody else a small present. It was just like a Secret Santa, except it wasn't a secret and you had to buy a preset for everybody. Okay, so maybe it wasn't like Secret Santa.

Last year he got a pack of pens from Hawkeye (because he always 'loses' his), a lighter from Havoc (the last time Jean asked for a light, one of his eyebrows got burned off), a "Do Not Disturb" sign from Fuery (poor kid got punched in the face when he tried to wake up a dozing Mustang), a "#1 Boss!" mug with magazines about vacations from Breda (it was a hint that Mustang didn't catch) and a stress ball from Hughes (the moment he opened the gift, he threw it at the man's face hard while Hughes yelled, "SEE! This is WHY I got it for you!").

Roy smiled at the memories. It was a crazy dinner last year, and now, with the addition of the Elrics, he had a feeling it was going to be even more hectic this year.

"Shall we, sir?" Riza said in her usual monotone voice, holding the glass door for her boss. Both of them were dressed in civilian clothing, but that didn't mean that they had to act as if they were civilians.

Mustang nodded and walked through, but then stopped to gasp softly at the inside of the mall.

"H-holy crap!" He cried. "It's huge!"

Riza walked up to him, "Welcome to a mall, Colonel. They tend to be big so please try not to get lost." It was meant to be a joke, but the way she said made him wonder whether she was serious or not.

But the mall _was _huge. From first glance, he had already counted about twenty stores and about fifty people with five bags each. It amazed him even further when he realized he was only on one side of the first floor – looking at the map that depicted a diagram of the building, there were two floors with four sides (or extremely long and narrow halls) each. There was even a huge cafeteria in the center of the second floor.

"First thing on the list," Riza said, pulling Roy from his daze, "is ham and chicken. There should be a deli on this floor so..."

"Wait! There's a deli in a mall?" Mustang asked skeptically. "I thought malls only sold clothes and girly crap."

Hawkeye looked at him with a face that said, _"really?",_ but out loud she just said, "...Malls have almost every store in them. So yes, there are delis."

"Huh..." Mustang hummed, interestingly. "How neat. Well then, let's go."

_**-HAM AND CHICKEN**_

The deli store was much larger than any deli Mustang had ever been to. He didn't even know before he came in that there were so many different types and kinds of meat. He always thought that it was just steak, pork chops and chicken wings, but apparently, there are other parts of the animal you can eat, too.

The two soldiers were passing by the refrigerated aisle, where the food was kept preserved and displayed at the same time, and Mustang shivered from the cold.

"Why's it so cold in here?" He asked.

Riza sighed, "So the food doesn't spoil."

"I know that," Roy muttered. "But why is it _so _cold?"

"I told you to bring your jacket with you," Hawkeye said. "But you insisted that it was unnecessary, so now you have to deal with the consequences, sir."

"I expected a mall to be well heated for the satisfaction of its customers," Mustang defended irritably.

She ignored her superior's childish antics and continued walking down the frigid aisle, looking for a large, full chicken first. After they passed the yogurt and milk section, they finally reached the chicken.

"What's this?" Mustang asked innocently, pointing to the packaged piece of chicken.

Riza narrowed her eyes slightly in confusion at his question and said slowly, "…That's chicken breasts."

Just like she expected, Mustang snorted. "Breasts?"

She nodded and he snorted again. "Breasts as in…" He cupped the front of the chest to immaturely show her if it were indeed the breasts he was thinking of.

"Yes, Colonel. Chicken _breasts." _She said with no amusement in her voice.

The man chuckled and asked disbelievingly, "People actually eat those? Ha! Idiots."

She squinted her eyes at him and asked calmly, "Have you ever eaten chicken cutlets?"

"Yes, but I don't see how that has –"

"Chicken cutlets are made from chicken breasts, sir."

Mustang looked appalled, "What?" Riza nodded and he gasped in horror, "I ate the breasts of a _chicken? _Oh god…"

She rubbed at her face and sighed, "Can we continue on, Colonel? We need hurry this up if we want to beat the lines."

Mustang followed her, all the while muttering, "Chicken breasts. _Breasts _of chickens. Boobs. Chicken _boobs."_

They eventually did find the whole chicken, cleaned and packaged, and made Mustang carry it for her. "What's this?" He asked her when he took the load from the display.

"A chicken." She answered easily.

"Lieutenant, this is not a chicken," He said sternly. "I don't know if you realize, but chickens have wings, a neck, feet, feathers and a face. This … this is the head of an alien."

"No, sir. Please believe me when I tell you it's a chicken." When he didn't look convinced, she asked him, "Have you ever cooked, sir? Or made your own food in general?"

"Nope," he answered flippantly. "I always go out to eat or order takeout. Sometime Hughes drops by and gives me leftovers. Why?"

"No reason, just confirming something," she answered without missing a beat. Well, that explains _that_. His childish behavior is justified at least, the Lieutenant thought. It still doesn't give him a reason to behave so _dramatically._

When they kept walking, Mustang spotted packaged ground beef and looked like he was going to be sick, "Oh dear God, what is _that?"_

When Riza answered, he looked horrified, "They actually sell people beef from the floor?"

When they passed sausages, he actually _giggled. _Him, Colonel Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, a full grown man, _giggled _at the sight of uncooked sausages. Hawkeye didn't even want to know what he thought the meat looked like.

But the most ridiculous stunt he pulled was when he passed the glass aquarium that housed the lobsters. He – God knows what was running through his mind at that time – thought that the tank was a free sample service. Roy Mustang actually reached into the tank and _split open _one of the live lobsters in search of the meat.

That didn't end well, to say the least. His excuse was, "The lobsters the restaurants serve me have _solid, _tasty meat in it. I don't know what kind of lobsters these people are selling. How they're still in business, I'll never know."

In the end, Hawkeye managed to find the ham before they could make it to the liver and heart meat section.

_**- SCENTED CANDLES AND CANDLE STANDS**_

The store had a foreign, unpronounceable name, so Hawkeye knew it was one of the best ones the mall had to offer. When she walked into the store, she heard the Colonel from behind her moan in sweet relief at how warm the store is.

She had asked him to put the meat back in the car earlier while she went to the store, but he returned faster than she expected. Truthfully, Riza just wanted to get away from him for a few minutes. As professional as he might seem in the office, Roy Mustang was nothing more than an obnoxious, spoiled brat in the outside world.

The store they came into held a soft aroma that glided through the room. It was lowly lit, but bright enough to see where you were going and extremely spacious and crowded with people. Riza had never seen this many people this eager in a _candle _store.

She thought quickly of a way to get rid of Mustang. "Sir, I'll get what we need, you can look around if you want," Yes, perfect. Don't make it obvious that you're _desperate _to get away.

The black haired man shrugged, "Whatever. I'll be over," he looked around and spotted a seat in the corner of the room, "there."

"Okay," The Lieutenant said, walking away, her heels tapping the floor softly and quickly.

Roy, himself, began walking, but his eyes were set on that lovely armchair that was just waiting to be sat on. They probably put these chairs in the store so that men, such as himself, would relax while the women browsing.

Such useful and smart idea. Mustang could really use some relaxation time. All this walking around really did a number on his feet.

Mustang was only a few feet away from the cushioned seat when, out of nowhere, a kid ran to the chair and plopped himself down. The boy pulled out a comic book, folded his legs up and completely disregarded the now aggravated Colonel who was standing in front of him.

"Kid, get off," Mustang said bluntly to the red haired boy who was probably no older than ten. The boy looked at him and glared at him, "Why should I?"

"Because that's my seat," Roy said childishly.

"I don't see your name on it."

"But what you _did _see was me making my way towards the seat, right?" Mustang said through clenched teeth. "So why don't you be a good little boy and _get off."_

The brat put his book down, lifted a hand and gave Mustang the middle finger, "Tough luck, old man."

A vein visibly popped on Roy's forehead and he grinded his teeth even harder, "You made a grave mistake, you little brat. You messed with the wrong Colonel on the wrong day. I'm about to make you regret you even had the idea of sitting in my seat."

"Piss off." The kid said solemnly.

"Not smart." Mustang looked around the room and spotted a red haired woman looking over a set of scented candles. A mischievous idea popped into the Flame Alchemist's head and he grinned evilly. "Pst, hey," He whispered at the boy.

The boy set the book down harshly on his lap, "You're still here? What do you want?"

Mustang pointed at the red headed woman and said, "Check out her rack. I swear, I've never seen a nicer set of boobs than those."

The kid looked at where Mustang was pointing and his eyes widened, "Pervert! That's my mother, you bastard!"

_Bingo._

"Oh, really?" Mustang asked, stretching out each syllable. "Hm, she looks like a strict parent, right? The type that would get _really _mad if you do something bad, like perhaps," He reached with one to grab a large and expensive looking candle holder and held it, "Break this pricey looking thing, right?"

The boy visibly paled when he realized what Mustang was up to. "You're bluffing."

"Am I?" He loosened his grip and let the candle stand fall to the ground. A deafening _CRASH _echoed through the store, and from the corner of his eye, he saw the mother turn around.

"That's it, boy!" Mustang said in a sudden commanding and dominate tone. He reached down and grabbed the boy's arm and pulled him off the chair, "I've had it with your nuisance! You're coming with me right now, you little delinquent."

"Hey – excuse me – what the hell is going on?" The red headed woman asked urgently, making it to the scene.

"Is this kid yours, ma'am?" Mustang asked. "Hey! Let go of me!" The boy cried, but Roy silenced him by squeezing his arm tightly.

"Yes, why?" The lady asked.

"This child has been terrorizing the store nonstop and has already broken three items, all of which were very expensive and unique," Roy boomed loudly.

"Tommy!" The mother cried furiously. "Is that true?"

"No!" The boy defended, "He's lying!"

"Then how do you explain that?" Mustang asked, pointing to the candleholder that was whole only seconds ago.

"You just dropped it, you idiot!" He looked at his mom, his eyes pleading. "Mom, I swear, he's lying!"

"Oh, really?" Mustang asked. "Are you calling me, a Colonel and State Alchemist of Amestris, a liar?"

The woman's eyebrows shot up, "A soldier!"

"Bullshit!" The little boy called. "He's lying!"

Mustang swiftly – and cockily – pulled out his State pocket watch and flashed it to the two redheads.

The woman was speechless and the kid began to sweat, "But – but – but – _he_ dropped it, not me! I swear!"

"Tommy! Apologize to this nice man _right away!" _The woman hissed at her kid.

The boy was about to retaliate but the look his mother shot made him reconsider, so he looked down at his shoes and grunted, "Sorry."

Roy laughed wholeheartedly and ruffled his hair, "That's a good boy."

"I'm so sorry, my Tommy can be quite a handful sometimes. Allow me to pay for the damage…"

Mustang smiled and shook his head, "No need, I'm sure this won't happen again. Right, _Tommy?"_

Tommy glared up at him and mouthed a small curse. The mother awkwardly thanked Roy again, and when she was rounding up her kid, Mustang leaned over to the woman and whispered to her loud enough for the boy to hear, "Your boy has quite a dirty mouth there. A word of advice, whenever I cursed when I was younger, and my mother would wash my mouth with soup. It actually worked."

The woman hummed considerately and brightened at the idea, "You know, that doesn't sound so bad."

"What?" The boy cried. "Mom, no! This guys just screwing with you!"

"Watch your mouth, Tommy!" The woman scolded, pulling her boy along with her. "Wait until your father hears about this…" Mustang heard the mother mutter as the two of them disappeared from sight.

Mustang smiled and gracefully sat down on the chair, his face lighting up with pride and cockiness. _You messed with the wrong Mustang, brat. The Flame Alchemist never loses!_

At the cash register, not too far from where Mustang was seated, Hawkeye shook her head in embarrassment and groaned inwardly.

_**- CHRISTMAS SONG RECORDS**_

At the record store, Mustang was actually _thrown out _of the store completely by the owner. When Riza came out, a shopping bag with the desired items already in hand, to ask Mustang what he did, Roy simply responded with, "What? It's not my fault those Frisbees are so fragile."

_**-CHAMPAGNE GLASSES AND CHAMPAGNE (NO CHEAP CRAP)**_

Hawkeye didn't even have time to get her change back when Roy grabbed her arm and ran for the door, screaming, "RUN! GO, GO, GO!"

Behind her, she watched as the rows of shelves that held fancy champagne bottles began to fall on each other, one by one, like dominos.

"YOU CAN'T PROVE ANYTHING! I'M INNOCENT!" Mustang yelled as his finality, dashing out the store with a dazed blonde.

_**-*ALSO MAKE SURE TO BUY A SMALL PRESENT FOR EVERYONE!**_

"Sir, can I have a word with you," Hawkeye asked. The two of them were now in the large cafeteria, enjoying a quick lunch of fast foods at one of the tables.

Mustang, sitting across her with a large hamburger in both hands, asked with a mouthful, "What?"

"Your behavior today was quite … unprofessional." She worded wisely, popping a fry into her mouth.

"How so?"

"For example, the way you treated that boy at the candle store," Hawkeye said. "You were acting very immature for someone of your status."

"You saw that?" He asked.

"Sadly, yes."

"Then why didn't you come and help me when that little twerp didn't get off? If you were watching, you would have known that it was _my _chair since I saw it first. Really, Lieutenant. I expected better from you."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Calmly, she said, "That's beside the point, Colonel. The image you're portraying in public is really disappointing and will most likely hurt you when someone from the higher ups recognizes you."

Mustang was silent for a moment and then sighed, "Perhaps … I did get a little too carried away. I have the tendency to get a little too excited when experiencing new things." Then his voice dropped and he said sincerely, "I apologize if I embarrassed you, Riza."

The woman smiled a little and said softly, "it's fine, sir. Just … think before you act, okay?"

"Sure."

Satisfied, Riza continued eating and then said, when she noticed that Roy's burger was nothing more than a few crumbs, "You know, the only thing left is to pick up the small gifts for everyone. If you'd like, you can go ahead and start your shopping while I go and do mine when I finish eating. We'll meet up at the entrance at, let's say, 1700 hours?"

Mustang nodded, "Sounds good." He stood up and wiped his mouth with a tissue, "I'll be back in two hours, okay?"

"Good."

Hawkeye watched him go and, oddly enough, was a little scared to let Mustang go on his own. The fact that the Colonel was let loose, without anyone to watch over him, was just _asking _for something bad to happen.

She felt like an overprotective, worrisome mother who had just let her son take out the car for the first time. Just like how a mother would worry, "What if he drinks and drives? What if he gets a ticket? What if he picks up a dangerous hitchhiker? What if he crashes?" Hawkeye worried, "What if he breaks something? What if somebody recognizes him? What if they arrest him for property damage? What if he accidently burns down the mall?"

"Stupid," Riza insulted herself lowly. "Why are you worrying about your boss? He's a full grown man, he can handle himself."

But inwardly, she was thinking,_ 'No he can't. He can't do anything right. He probably destroyed half the building by now.'_

She scoffed at herself. Why was she worrying about _him _when she should be worrying about herself. She still needed to drop off the bags back in the car and go and pick up the presents for everyone. But with her quick and keen mind, she'll be able to finish everything in less than an hour.

No worries.

**- Two and a half hours LATER. -**

Okay, so maybe it wasn't as easy as she expected. But seriously, nobody can be able to buy seven different things for seven completely different people in just an hour, let alone two. And if Riza knew the Colonel, he was sure as hell not finished either.

So, to say she was surprised to see Mustang waiting for her at the meeting spot they discussed earlier, was an understatement. An even bigger understatement would be that she was surprised to see a wide grin plastered on his face.

The man practically _ran _up to her. "Lieutenant! Lieutenant!" He yelled at her, eyes sparkling with delight. "You won't _believe_ what I bought just now!"

Recovering from the shock of seeing her boss' face light up like a Christmas tree, she asked, "Did you buy the gifts for everyone?"

"Even better," He cried, dragging the women outside.

"Sir, the mall closes in about an hour. If you didn't buy anything, then we need to go back and –"

"No, no! You have to see this first!" The Flame Alchemist exclaimed.

He pushed the glass doors open, and the moment she saw what was tied to one of the lamppost poles, she wanted to cry.

Three – not one, not even two, but _three – _large dogs, each staring intently at her and Mustang, were sitting down on the concrete with their leashes wrapped around the pole, waiting obediently.

"I had _no _idea they sold pets in the mall," Mustang was saying. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Her voice came out much hoarser than she intended, "You didn't…"

"Oh, but I did, Lieutenant!" Mustang said with authentic happiness. He walked up to the dogs and pointed at the first one, "This guy is a Great Dane, the _biggest _breed. I named him Mustang Jr. This is a pit-bull, very vicious dog breed. He's Mustang II. And this little fellow is an Irish wolfhound, originally war dogs, so I respectively named him Mustang III." He smiled and pet Mustang Jr. and Mustang III, "Isn't this great!"

"But…" She croaked. "Didn't you _just _promise me that you'll think before you do something!"

"I did think about this! And I thought it was a great idea! So I did it!"

But Hawkeye sighed loudly and pinched the bridge of her nose, finally saying, "You have to return them."

Mustang looked heart-broken, and even Mustang II recoiled away while Mustang Jr. whined. "B-but, we've already bonded! You can't separate us; we're a family!" The dogs barked in agreement.

"How can you expect to take care of three dogs when you can't even take care of yourself?" Riza asked.

"I _can_ take care of them," Mustang interjected stubbornly. "And they can take care of me! Dogs are always loyal to their master, no matter how harshly they've been treated or neglected! They'll never leave me, tell me what to do or ask for a raise! Ever since I was a child, I've _dreamed _of having my own army of dogs! Don't take away my dream, Lieutenant! Don't you dare!"

"No." She said. "Take them back."

Mustang looked defeated for a second until the pit-bull barked and his head shot up, "Excellent idea, Mustang II." Roy looked towards his subordinate, "If you don't let me keep them, I'll just court-martial you for disobeying an order from your superior."

Hawkeye didn't even flinch at the threat, she just simply shrugged playfully and said, "You _could _do that, but would you want to? Think about it. I get court-martialed and taken away and you're free. But then the higher ups would realize you're slacking and assign you an assistant to watch over you. That assistant might be a bitter old man who makes you work non-stop and reports all the mistakes you do and the bad habits you picked up. Eventually, the dogs will be taken away because you won't be able to feed them since you'll be demoted and given a lower pay for not doing your job properly. You'll end up being shipped to Briggs and used as a heater. And that's if you court-martial me." This time, it was she who smiled. "What will it be, sir? Who do you want to stay the most, me or the dogs?"

It was silent for a few moments before the Colonel finally said, remorsefully, "Sorry, boys. She wins."

Mustang Jr. whined pathetically, putting his head down and his paws over his eyes while Mustang II and Mustang III barked in outrage.

"Now that that's settled, go return them and let's go back to shopping." Mustang nodded and Riza added quickly, "Because of your stupidity, I'm exchanging your gift for something more … suitable for an idiot like you."

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><p><strong>((UNEDITED))<strong>

**((THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED! YOU'RE ALL SUCH BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE! AND ALSO, FOR SOME STRANGE REASON, I'M REALLY EXCITED FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER, EVEN THOUGH I HAVEN'T WRITTEN IT YET!))**

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><p><strong>NEXT CHAPTER:<strong> _Characters_: _Roy Mustang, Edward Elric, Jean Havoc, Heymans Breda, Maes Hughes, Riza Hawkeye, Alphonse Elric, Vato Falman, Kain Fuery_


	5. The Fifth Day

**The Twelve Days of Disaster**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: Thou does not own FMA ... or shall ever own it.<strong>

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><p><em><strong>The Fifth Day<strong>_

**Characters:** Roy Mustang, Edward Elric, Jean Havoc, Heymans Breda, Maes Hughes, Riza Hawkeye, Alphonse Elric, Vato Falman, Kain Fuery

**Summary: **A war has broken out, and nobody is safe...

**A/N -** Okay, these chapters just keep getting longer and longer ... I seriously need to shorten them or else I wont have time to do homework ... this chappy took me forever to make, and I finally edited it (so if you read the crappy version of it earlier ... I'm sorry you had to see that) and I think it's good. Hope you like it, and don't forget to review.

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><p>"And then, he told me that my art was <em>bad! <em>But joke's on him 'cause Karma bit him in the ass and he fell off the roof! Ha! That idiot had it coming. It was _so _funny!"

Mustang groaned inwardly as the kid continued to babble on and _on _about how he spent the day with Breda. It was just his luck that he had to run into the Fullmetal kid on his way to work. Now they were walking besides each other, while one of them continued with his one-sided conversation while the other tried to block him out.

"And then – Colonel, hey! Are you listening to me?" Ed asked when he noticed the faraway look on the man's face.

Mustang hummed, "Beautiful weather, isn't it?"

"Don't ignore me!" Ed snapped irritably, kicking the snow as he walked.

It had started snowing last night (and by snowing, I mean blizzard-ing) and had continued at the same pace throughout the night and throughout the morning. The snow had already reached three feet, and according to the newspapers, it was going to continue to snow until tomorrow evening, adding another three feet of snow.

Mustang frowned at that. _Snow. _He hated the snow; absolutely loathed it. Not only because it rendered his signature alchemy useless, but because it was simply annoying. The stupid little flakes always got in his eyes when he least expected it and always got through to his boots no matter how thick the quality was _and_ it was cold.

Very, very cold.

"Oh shi – Colonel, duck! _Get down!" _Ed suddenly said, pulling on the man's arm and dragging him behind a nearby parked car. "What are you – " Mustang was asking but was interrupted by a "SHHHH!"

Ed poked his head through the car window to see through it but was surprised to see Jean Havoc looking right back at him from the driver's seat with a cigarette loosely in his mouth. The blonde haired man looked extremely confused, and the only logical thing he could think of to do at a situation like this was awkwardly wave and say, "Uh…hi?"

"Oh, so this is why you're always late," Mustang said loudly enough so Jean could hear it from through the window.

The Second Lieutenant cringed a little and opened his mouth to say something, but smartly rolled down the window first, "I don't _always _do this…"

"Would guys shut _up," _Ed snapped at the two men. "Look!"

Jean and Mustang followed to where the kid was pointing toward. On the other side of the street, Breda and Falman were walking together, idly chatting with a cup of coffee in both their hands. Oh, Mustang thought, but then, when he realized why Ed was excited about that, he thought, _Oh._

Ed grinned and picked up a small pile of snow, "This'll teach him a thing or two..."

"…What are you doing?" Jean asked guardedly as Ed patted on the snow, making it into a spherical shape.

"Watch," he responded simply. Ed rose slightly from where he was kneeling, and, with his head peeking from the side of the hood, he threw the snow ball at Breda's direction. The kid had quite an amazing arm and aim because the ball of snow hit Breda directly at the side of his head.

When the ball made contact, and when Breda let out a loud curse, Ed hid behind the car again and snickered wildly.

"You're such a child," Mustang muttered, getting ready to stand up, but was stopped by Edward.

"Wait! Wait!" The kid whispered. "Let me just throw one more; just to mess with him."

Mustang hesitated, but then responded, "Hn, fine. But only because Breda's face is priceless."

With Mustang's permission to humiliate Breda once more, Ed picked up more snow and repeated the action of making it spherical. He poked his head up again and patiently waited for a good opportunity to throw.

Currently, Breda was grumbling about how the snow got in his hair while Falman helped try to get the frozen liquid from in his hood. When a good opening was available, Edward quickly threw the ball, although, instead of hitting its target, it hit Falman in the face.

"Crap!" Ed cried, quickly ducking back behind the car when he heard Vato cry out in surprise.

While Ed berated himself for his awful throw, Havoc, from inside the car and with a perfect view, threw his head back and laughed wildly. Falman must have heard his laughs because his head perked suddenly and he shot Jean's car a glare. The lieutenant cringed when he heard Falman yell, "Havoc!"

"Somebody's in trouble…" He heard Ed sing.

So Havoc got out of his car in order to tell Falman clearly that it wasn't him who threw it but Vato interrupted his oncoming defense by yelling from across the street, "_Real _mature, Havoc!"

"It wasn't me!" Havoc fortified uselessly, since his laughing made him hard to take seriously. But his laughing stopped when his face was pelleted by snow. "Hey!"

"Serves you right," Falman hollered, dusting the snow off his gloves.

Ed howled with laughter. He and Mustang were now standing beside an angry Jean, and while Mustang knew how to contain his amusement, Edward did not.

Fed up with being bullied, Havoc pointed at Ed and yelled, "He was the one who threw it, not me!"

The laughing stopped, and when Ed opened his mouth to counter, there was a cry of "I KNEW IT!" and a ball of snow went spiraling toward him, hitting him right in the face. The boy's cry was muffled by the snow that fell in his mouth and he glared at Breda, who was now laughing.

Falman let a chuckle slip at the expression on Ed's face, but it didn't last when he felt a bullet of snow hit him on the shoulder.

"That's for hitting me!" Havoc cried. He then threw another pellet of snow at the gray haired man's arm, "And that's for getting Suzie killed!"

"For the love of God, IT WAS JUST A STUPID DEER!" Falman shouted back, grabbing snow with both his hands, and clumsily throwing them at Jean's direction. One hit Havoc on the shoulder, and the other hit the top of Ed's head.

The boy stood dazed from the throw but then quickly shook his head and shouted, "That's_ IT!"_

He clapped his hands and bent down on the ground, transmuting the snow into a cannon made of ice. "Shit!" Breda and Falman yelled, looking for a place to take cover. But it was too late. The makeshift cannon fired, and dozens of snow balls fired out, raining down on the two soldiers.

Jean and Ed laughed as the two men desperately tried to avoid the onslaught of snow. Suddenly, after a ball hit his back, Breda cried, "To the parking lot – Hurry!"

The men ran to the open space that was half a block away from where they originally stood. "Cowards!" Ed yelled at the retreating men, chasing after them with an insane grin and with Havoc right beside him.

Mustang watched as his subordinates chased after each other in the Military's parking lot and sighed audibly. "And these are the people that I'm supposed to rely on…" He said sadly to no one in particular. But his curiosity got the best of him, and his desire to see who would prevail (re: who would get hurt the most) made him follow the other soldiers.

The parking lot was somewhat empty, with only a few cars parked, since it was still pretty early in the day and perhaps because a few people were stuck from the snow.

Breda and Falman were on one side, while Jean and Ed were on the other.

"Not fair," Heymans breathed, out of breath. "You guys have an alchemist on your side."

"Who cares about fair!" Havoc scoffed.

"If it makes you feel any better, you can take the useless bastard," Ed said, gesturing to Mustang.

"Useless!" Roy cried.

"Yes! We get the Colonel!" Falman cheered.

"I am not participating in your childish antics," Roy jeered, waving them off. "Continue on with your silly game without me. I'm just here to watch."

"What game?" A high pitched voice squeaked from behind Mustang. Behind the man was a large suit of armor, who stood awkwardly behind Roy.

"Al!" Ed shouted from the other side at his younger brother. "I thought you said you were going to buy breakfast!"

"I did! But you took long coming back so I decided to come –" But whatever he was about to say was cut off by Falman yelling, "DIBS ON ALPHONSE!"

The armor cocked his head in confusion, "Huh…?"

"No way! We get Al!" Havoc shouted back.

"Are you kidding me! You already have a genius alchemist on your team! We should have one, too!" Breda reasoned, waving his arms around.

"You already have an alchemist!"

"…I thought I told you idiots I'm not playing…"

"See! So we get Al!"

"Hell no! He's my brother, so he's automatically on our side!"

"That's cheating, you little fleabag!"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING LITTLE, YOU FAT ASS!"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING FAT, YOU TINY SHRIMP!"

"Um…" Al said uncomfortably through all the yelling. "What's going on?"

"Their having some sort of twisted snow ball fight," Mustang supplied lazily.

"Oh…That sounds fun!" Al chirped. "I want to play! But if they already have you, Colonel…"

"I'm not playing." Roy grunted out.

"So then I guess I should go with them," Al mumbled, gesturing to Breda and Falman. When the armor stood beside the two men, Falman hissed a "Yes!" and Breda pointed toward Ed, "HA!"

"AL!" Edward cried out in pain. "How could you!"

Al bowed his head and shrugged, "Sorry, Brother. It's only fair…"

"Oh, OKAY! I see how it is." Ed huffed. "Being betrayed by my OWN brother. What kind of sick world do I live in?" He looked at his brother with a sickening glare and muttered dangerously, "Don't expect me to show you any mercy."

"But I can't feel anything…" Al sighed at his brother's dramatic display. But before he said anything else, a snow ball hit him in the chest. "Hey! I wasn't ready!"

"How does it feel, Al!" Ed yelled. "How does it feel to be BETRAYED!"

"I don't know!" Al cried truthfully. Another ball of snow hit him in the chest, and then another hit him in the head. When he tried to say something, snow smacked him in the face. "Brother!"

"BETRAYEL HURTS, DOESN'T IT, LITTLE BROTHER?"

"Fine then," Al huffed, clapping his hands and touching the ground. Lights erupted and a catapult made of ice filled with dozens of snowballs in its cup was transmuted. "Be that way."

Behind him, he heard Falman whisper, "Good, good. Give in to your anger…"

Al released the catapult, and the snow balls flew out like arrows, slamming onto Havoc, Edward and the ground and amazing speed. Havoc got hit three times while Ed got bombed with about ten, the last one knocking him to the ground.

Breda laughed and slapped Al on the back in good sportsmanship, "Great job, Al!"

"Thanks…" Al murmured shyly, embarrassed by the unexpected praise for attacking his brother.

"TRAITOR!" Ed yelled, wiping the snow off his face furiously. "I TRUSTED YOU!"

Just then a car rolled into the parking lot, a familiar black car with silver handles and side mirrors. Mustang, who was enjoying the show from afar, groaned when he recognized whose car it was.

When the vehicle parked nearby on one of the open spaces, Maes Hughes came out from the front door. "Roy!" He called, waving at the Colonel.

"Hughes," Mustang greeted. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Breda get a snowball thrown at his ear, but kept his attention at the family man. "You're early."

"I was carpooling!" Hughes replied, for some reason, happily, as if carpooling was such a fun thing to do these days. As proof, he gestured with a nod at his passengers, Fuery and Hawkeye, who were just coming out.

When Riza came out and spotted her boss, Mustang could have _sworn_ he saw the woman's eye twitch slightly.

"What are they doing?" Fuery asked shyly, his eyes following the airborne snow.

"Snowball fight," Mustang answered carelessly, shrugging his shoulders.

"That sounds dangerous," Fuery mumbled.

"And foolish." Riza supplied.

Roy shrugged again, "Yes, well. They need to get it out of their system. There seems to be a _great _deal of tension between everyone, apparently."

"Yes, _well_," Hawkeye began. "I wouldn't blame them, though. _Some _people can be hard to deal with and impossible to put up with; it's understandable to become fed up with _them."_

Mustang caught on to her change of tone, "Well, maybe if _some _people can be a little more lenient, others wouldn't be so difficult."

"_Perhaps _if _they _didn't act like immature children and demand ridiculous things…"

"_Maybe _if _people _would just _listen _and obey their bosses…"

"_Maybe _if their bosses wouldn't go out and spend all their bonus checks on useless things…"

"They weren't useless!" Mustang cried.

"They were three large dogs, sir. They are useless for someone who doesn't have enough time to care of a pet, let alone three."

"They weren't _pets, _Hawkeye! They were my _soldiers._ I thought we established that!"

Fuery looked from Hawkeye to the Colonel and from the Colonel to Hawkeye and mumbled, "I'm sensing a lot of negative energy here…" Hughes nodded in agreement.

Suddenly, a stray snowball that wandered away from the battlefield hit Hawkeye on the left arm lightly. She didn't flinch at all, but she did narrow her eyes when Mustang snickered.

"You think that was funny?" She asked lowly.

"Actually, yes, it was pretty amusing." Mustang tittered.

She nodded, "Very well, then." Riza bent down on the floor and picked up a sheet of snow.

"You wouldn't…" Mustang was saying but after a second, the rest of sentence was muffled by the snow that was thrown at his face. He spit out the frozen water, "So this is how you want to do it…"

"I can think of no fitter way, sir."

From faraway, Ed must have caught a glimpse at the sudden exchange, because he abruptly yelled, "HAWKEYE'S ON OUR TEAM!"

Someone else, probably Falman, shouted back, "NO WAY! WE WANT THE LEIUTENANT!"

"TOO BAD! YOU HAVE THE BASTARD!"

Mustang was about to exasperatedly say, "I'm not playing…" for the fifth time but stopped when Riza suddenly said, "If the Colonel's with them, then I would prefer to be with the other team."

"What?" Mustang asked in horror, and his face was even more grief stricken as he watched Hawkeye walk to Fullmetal and Jean's side.

"But you're supposed to watch my back, Lieutenant." Mustang cried out when his trusty lieutenant stood next to Alphonse.

"I will be watching your back, sir. I will watch it while it gets attacked by my snowballs," She replied, her voice in its professional tone, even though the actual sentence she uttered was far from professional in any scenario.

"Well, then," Roy said, clearing his throat. "It seems the new twist in circumstances has included me in this little game as well."

"Yes!" Breda , Falman and Al cried when Mustang made his way towards them.

"Wait, now the teams are uneven," Havoc said. He looked toward the two that haven't been included yet, "Fuery! Hughes! One of you comes with us!"

Hughes shook his head, "I'd rather stay out of this. I'm more of a referee than a player."

Fuery brightened, "I'll join you!" When he ran towards the other team, he could have sworn that even though it wasn't possible, Alphonse shot him a glare.

"Well, now. This seems interesting," Hughes laughed.

"How about we make it a little more interesting?" Ed declared with a sly smile.

Fascinated, Mustang smirked, "Oh? What do you have in mind, Fullmetal?"

"A little bet, winner takes all."

"How do we determine the winner?" Falman asked.

"I know," Hughes said. He ran up to the middle of the two sides and said loud enough for both groups to hear, "Each person is only allowed five hits. After they've been hit the fifth time, they're out. First team with all their players out loses and the remaining team wins. I'll be the score-holder!"

Mustang nodded, "Very well, then. Name your price."

Ed smiled evilly, "The winner gets one free slap."

Mustang did a double-take, "A _slap?"_

"Yeah!" Havoc cried. "If we win, one of us gets to land one free slap on you!"

"Sounds reasonable," Riza nodded.

"I don't see why not…" Kain mumbled.

Mustang looked betrayed, and a little skeptical. _'Why is it that they're all so eager to slap me ... and if they're all agreeing, then does that mean they've discussed this before?' _"That's ridiculous," Mustang abolished. "But the idea of having a justifiable reason to slap you _does _sound intriguing," He added quickly when realized that now he could give one, nice humiliating slap to Fullmetal.

"That's _if _you win," Ed said quickly, a little uneasily when he noticed the Colonel's disturbing expression. _Maybe this wasn't such a great idea..._

"Which you won't…" Jean quipped.

"Hm…The winner gets to slap Ed. I like that," Breda said thoughtfully.

"Me, too," Al said, ignoring Ed's face, who currently seemed to be having a heart attack from his brother's words.

"Then it's settled!" Hughes bellowed. "It's the Flame Team versus the Fullmetal Team! Last man standing wins! Let's begin!"

And so the bloodshed began.

Hughes ran from the battlefield when a fleet of snowballs flew through the sky. Snow poured on each side, and Ed and Al each alchemized a barrier for protection. Nobody was hit.

"This is how we're doing it," Mustang said to his team that consisted of Alphonse, Breda and Falman. "Alphonse provides the defense while Breda and Falman are positioned on the front. Aim for the chest and try to throw more than one."

"Yes, sir!" Came the chorus of replies.

On the other side, Ed huddled up his team and told them his own strategy, "Leave no survivors."

"Yes, sir!" Came the response of his team.

And so they ran, balls of snow on their hands, and transmuted snowball launchers on each side. Each time somebody was struck by the snow, Hughes would call it out loudly for everyone to hear.

"HAVOC, THAT'S ONE!"

"Dammit!" Jean hissed, nursing his face.

"BREDA, ONE!"

"That was a cheap shot, midget!"

"FUERY, ONE – FUERY, TWO!"

"Stop ganging up on me, Alphonse!"

"HAWKEYE, ONE!"

"Ha! Take that, Lieu –"

"MUSTANG, ONE!"

"Ow! Hey, watch the face!"

"FALMAN, ONE!"

"That one was for you, Suzie!" Havoc said, pointing to the sky.

"HAVOC, TWO!"

"That's not fair! I was having a moment!"

"HAVOC, THREE!"

"ASSHOLE, QUIT IT!"

"FALMAN, TWO! – FALMAN, THREE!"

"Ow, watch it, Fuery!"

"Ha ha!" Kain cried out happiness. "I got someone! I actually got someone! I finally –"

"FUERY, THREE!"

"Ow…"

"FUERY, FOUR!"

"Stop it, Al! That's bullying!"

Al shrugged, "That's winning."

"I can't believe you, Al!" Ed suddenly yelled. "Are you willing to hurt everyone just to win and be able to slap me?"

"Yes," came the quick response, without even a second of hesitation.

"So that's how you want to play…" Ed clapped his hands and slapped the floor.

"ALPHONSE, ONE!"

"EDWARD, ONE!"

"ALPHONSE, TWO!"

"EDWARD, TWO!"

"ALPHONSE, THREE!"

"PROTECT ALPHONSE," Mustang suddenly cried when he noticed the brothers' own separate battle. Both he and Breda came to Al's aid quickly.

"EDWARD, THREE – EDWARD FOUR!"

"Back up!" Ed cried, scrambling off the floor. "I NEED BACK UP!"

"MUSTANG, TWO! BREDA, TWO!"

"Nice accuracy, Lieutenant," Mustang complemented. "But are you quick enough to dodge THIS?"

"MUSTANG, THREE!"

"Ow…" He rubbed at his arm where he was sure it would be black and blue tomorrow. "Not bad, BUT NOT GOOD ENOUGH –"

"MUSTANG, FOUR!"

"Dammit! I need some help here!"

"HAWKEYE, TWO! HAWKEYE, THREE!"

The woman shot Breda a deadly glare, and the man immediately regretted his action.

"HALF TIME! FIVE MINUTE BREAK!" Hughes bellowed, clapping his hands.

Edward huddled his team behind their snow fort, "I got hit four times. You guys?"

"I got four, too," Fuery said sadly.

"Three," Jean said grumpily.

"Three," Hawkeye muttered.

"Damn, not good." Ed grumbled. "We need to _win! _I'll stay back and make a fort and throw the snowballs from behind it, then. Fuery, you stay back with me since you have one more hit left. Havoc and Hawkeye will be the offense. Make sure you _get rid of Al_. He's our biggest problem."

On the other side…

"Dammit!" Mustang growled, kicking the snow in front of him. "I got hit four times. _Four."_

"I got hit three…" Al said.

"Likewise," Falman said.

"Twice for me!" Breda said with a cocky grin.

"Alright then, now it's time for us to get serious," Mustang said seriously. "Here's the plan. Breda, you protect me and provide me with back up while I attack. In the meantime, Alphonse will fire from behind, Falman providing security for him. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Hughes took in a big breath and yelled, "TIME'S UP! BEGIN!"

Ed immediately put up a fort, and in the nick of time, too because just when he did, Alphonse created a three large catapults filled with about five balls each and let them all fire at the same time.

The snowballs flew, and then fell.

"Havoc! WATCH OUT!" Ed cried when he saw a snowball shooting directly at him.

Havoc looked up, but it was too late. The snow ball had already spiraled close to him that it was impossible for him to avoid it.

When the snowball was within inches of him, Havoc felt his whole body being pushed. He heard the snowball collide with a body, but it wasn't him who got hit. Somebody collapsed beside him.

"THAT'S FIVE…YOU'RE OUT, FUERY!"

Havoc's eyes widened, and he looked at his fallen comrade in horror, "Fuery … why …?"

Kain looked at him, his glasses fogged from the chill of the snow, and said hoarsely, "They need you out there … you're more important … I'm just …"

"Shh…" Havoc shushed the man, holding the man's head with his lap while he stroked his head. "Don't speak …" Jean swallowed and said tightly, "You shouldn't have done that … it should have be _me _who got hit, not you! It's not fair!"

Fuery smiled, "Heh … it doesn't matter now … it was me who got hit and … it's me who will have to go …"

"Don't say things like that," Havoc cried. "You'll be fine! Just hang in there!"

"I don't think I'll m-make it … I-I can't last any longer…" Fuery said, coughing. Havoc paled when he saw what came out of Fuery's mouth. Snow.

Oh God, he got hit bad. The damage was too much.

Kain shakily reached up and grabbed Havoc's collar, "I-I have a r-request..."

"Anything," The blonde whispered brokenly.

"Win for me," He breathed. "A-Avenge me and beat them … win for me Havoc …"

"I will, Fuery," Jean murmured. "I promise you, I will."

Kain smiled and slowly, ever so slowly, his eyes began to drop. When his eyes finally shut, Havoc stood up with eyes beaming with determination. "I will avenge you, my brother." Havoc said. "Just you watch."

He picked up the snow and molded it into the perfect shape and searched the area for his target. When he found him, he slipped behind the cars and waited for the perfect time.

Hughes walked over to Fuery's body, "You know, you don't have to lay there all day…"

Kain's eyes flied open and he stood up, sheepishly scratching his head, "Oh right, sorry…"

On the other side, Ed's snowballs were pouring over them like heavy rainfall.

"ALPHONSE, FOUR!"

"FALMAN, FOUR!"

"BREDA, THREE!"

A snowball went hurling towards Mustang, and as a last ditch effort, he grabbed the closest person to him and used them as a human shield.

"BREDA, FOUR!"

"SIR!" Breda cried out in outrage.

"I don't want to hear your complaints," Mustang snapped. "This is a war, not a playground."

"THAT'S FIVE … YOU'RE OUT ALPHONSE!"

"WHAT!" Mustang cried out in dread. "How!"

But his question was answered when he saw Havoc standing beside the suit of armor, shaking his fist in the air, screaming, "REVENGE! REVENGE!"

Furious at the loss of his star player, Mustang picked up the snow and threw it at Jean.

"THAT'S FIVE … YOU'RE OUT HAVOC!"

"NOOO!" Mustang heard Ed howl in misery. "YOU MURDERS! YOU TOOK TWO OF MY MEN! NOW YOU'RE GOING TO _PAY!" _

A large spark of light erupted from where Ed was, and a huge cannon made from practically all the snow that was within a ten feet diameter was transmuted.

Team Flame all took a fearful step back.

The cannon fired, and snowballs were literally _shot _like _bullets_ towards Flame ran around like a chicken without a head trying to avoid them. They did well so far, when suddenly:

"FALMAN, THAT'S FIVE YOU'RE OUT!"

And then, there was a loud _crash, _c_rash, crash _that sounded dreadfully familiar to the sound of a windshield breaking.

"Uh…" Hughes hesitated. "That's three … to the Fuhrer's car…"

Everybody stopped and stared at the now beat up car that used to be one of the finest cars in the making.

Then Mustang shouted in a panic, "EVER MAN FOR THEMSELVES!"

And everybody _fled _the scene in a matter of seconds.

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><p><strong>((EDITED!))<strong>

((THIS ONE CAME IN LATE BECAUSE MY COMPUTER FUCKED ME OVER DURING MID TYPE AND SHUT OFF, NOT SAVING ANYTHING! AND I HAD TO REWRITE HALF OF IT ALL OVER AGAIN. BE GRATEFUL!))

((To clear up something one reviewer asked before, regarding Elysia's name: In the anime, subbed it was spelled Elysia and that's how everyone spells it, But when I went to the FMA wiki, they spelled it Elicia, so thats what I went with…if it's more comftorable with everyone, I'll change it to Elysia. Unless you don't care…))

ALSO, CONGRATS TO **Gisel0202** FOR BEING MY 20TH REVIEWER! WOO! YOU GET A COOKIE!

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><p><strong>NEXT CHAPTER:<strong> _Characters: __Roy Mustang, Kain Fuery, Heymans Breda, Jean Havoc, Riza Hawkeye, Vato Falman_


	6. The Sixth Day

**The Twelve Days of Disaster**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I own nothing on this site except for my imagination

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><p><em><strong>The Sixth Day<strong>_

**Characters:** Roy Mustang, Kain Fuery, Heymans Breda, Jean Havoc, Riza Hawkeye, Vato Falman

**Summary: **The Flame Alchemist and his subordinates all get snowed in … in the most unlikely place.

AN- Wow! I'm really sorry! I had no Idea I uploaded the wrong chapter! My fault! I'm extremely sorry for deceiving you! Here's chapter six..

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><p>The snow was insane today. All throughout the day, snow just down poured on Central like a spilled bucket of water. It rose to five and a half feet in about two days alone, but it seemed that that's only how long it will last because the clouds were beginning to thin, thankfully.<p>

It was late at night when the snow had begun to slow down, and all that fell were a few flakes. Trucks with snowplows attached to their fronts were driving back and forth across the city, clearing the path for other cars and pushing the snow onto the side of the road.

In the darkness, six figures walked out of Central Command with their hoods pulled over their heads and their jackets wrapped around them and clutched against their chests.

They walked together in one group, navigating their way in the dark as best as they could.

"Where did you say you parked it again?" Falman asked, him being the first one to break the silence since they left the building. A conference had been held earlier in the evening and it had taken longer than they expected. It was now late at night, so dark that the contrast of the snow was paled to the comparison of what it looked like in the day time, and each person was deadly tired.

"It's … somewhere around here," Mustang muttered, his voice muffled by the scarf around his neck.

As a way to be sure that his subordinates wouldn't say _anything _about the snowball fight that took place yesterday, he had accepted their offer to become their chauffeur for one week; picking them up and dropping them off from work until Christmas. It had just so happened that Mustang had gotten a new car a few days ago, and he had a feeling that they had only given him that offer because they each wanted to ride in it.

Or destroy it.

Most likely destroy it.

These people had a habit of destroying things, lately.

But his car had a black exterior, so Roy was having much difficulty finding it.

"I'm cold…" Havoc muttered, emphasizing his tone in order for the Colonel to find the car faster.

"Me, too. I can't f-feel my toes. I think I got frostbites," piped Fuery glumly. "I hope they won't have to amputate my foot …"

"I can't feel my face," Breda grumbled, slapping his face to prove his point. "I'm pretty sure you're not allowed to be this cold, like ever."

"Stop complaining, you pansies," Mustang said. "Crying over being a little cold, you guys are pathetic."

Riza raised an elegant eyebrow at her boss, "Really, sir, this coming from the person who can't even remember where he parked his car."

Mustang turned his face from the woman, "I didn't forget … I know it's somewhere around here."

"Come _on! _I'm dying over here!" Havoc whined.

"Please, hurry, sir," Riza added, her teeth clattering as she said so.

Mustang ignored them and continued treading down the sidewalk. He kept his head raised up, eyes peeled for a nice, sleek, black car. It wasn't much of a sports car like what many of the richer soldiers have, but it was something that would make a person stop and admire it.

It was also the type of car that attracted a _ton _of girls.

According to the car salesman.

"Ah ha!" Roy cried in triumph. "I found it."

Indeed he had. The vehicle was parked near a street sign _– I knew I put it near a stop sign, pft! – _and just how he left it, that's how he found it.

He heard everyone let out a loud sigh of relief and before he could cross the street to get to his car, everyone _ran _to the vehicle, viciously pulling on the handles to try and open it, but alas, the doors were locked.

"Whoa – hey! – Hands _off _the car!" Mustang barked at his savage subordinates.

When he reached them all, he cleared his breath and began: "And now to recite the rules …"

"—OH, for the love of … we do this everytime –"

"Which is why I'm saying it _again," _Roy snapped at Breda.

"But we've heard it a million times already, we could practically recite it!" Breda cried.

"Too bad," He said simply, then cleared his throat and began once more, "And now to recite the rules for riding in Colonel Mustang's new, expensive car…" But he was met with a surprise when everybody _else _began talking at once.

"—Rule Number One: No eating or drinking in the car. Rule Number Two: No rough housing in the car. Rule Number Three: No snow in the car. Rule Number Five: No music requests in the car. Rule Number Six: No stupid questions in the car. Rule Number Seven: No Fullmetal in the car. And Rule Number Eight: No yelling in the car."

Mustang blinked. "Wow, you really _do _know them…"

"Can we _please _go in now?" Fuery begged.

"Yes, fine," Roy said, and then muttered, "impatient little animals." He made his way to the driver's seat, put the key in the whole, turned it and sat inside the car and put the car in the ignition. The car roared and then the engine began to purr. Mustang checked the front window, then the rear windows to be sure they were positioned right. He adjusted his seat to the most comfortable spot and adjusted the heating. He turned the knob … no, that's not warm enough. He turned it the other direction … no, that's too hot. He settled with keeping it in the middle; a nice room temperature feeling. He checked the gas needle and frowned when he realized that there was only a few gallons left –

"LET US IN ALREADY!" Everybody shouted from outside.

"Oh! Right, sorry!" Mustang sheepishly said, pressing the unlock button. Doors flew open, and Hawkeye took the seat in front, beside Mustang, while Breda, Falman, Havoc and Fuery squished themselves together in the backseats.

"Finally," Breda sighed. "Warmth…"

"A little too warm," Havoc said, trying to push Breda off his arm. "Could you move over a little?"

"I can't, Falman's hogging up all the room."

"Not me, Fuery's got the most space!"

Kain jumped, "Me? I can barely breathe!" He was right, his body had been pushed into the door that if someone were to open it, he would go flying out.

"Well, I _can't _breathe, so _move!" _With all his strength, Havoc pushed at Breda, who pushed at Falman, who was being pushed at Fuery. Kain yelped and Falman grunted, "Stop pushing!" He pushed himself off of Fuery and into Breda, who was being pushed to Havoc, who was being pushed to the door. "_You _stop pushing!"

"Rule Number Two, people!" Mustang said aloud, but he was ignored.

"Get _off _of me!"

"You get off of _me!"_

"Stop pushing! You're squishing my insides!"

"Then mover over a little!"

"I can't! _You _move over!"

"If I hear _one more_ word out of anyone of you, so help me God, I will _turn this car around!" _Mustang yelled, his voice high with authority. The commotion in the back seized and there was a moment of stiff silence until Hawkeye said, "Sir, we haven't even moved, yet."

He shrugged, "I know. I've just always wanted to say that."

"Can we go now?" Jean whined.

"Not yet," Mustang said with slight amusement in his voice.

Fuery, Falman, Breda, and Havoc all looked at the Colonel strangely. Even Hawkeye turned around to look at him oddly. "What are you scheming at…?" Riza asked cautiously.

Mustang grinned an evil grin that reached his ears and sent chills down his subordinate's spines. Even Hawkeye got a little queasy from looking at his twisted version of a smile. But she was met with a surprise of her life when her vision was compromised by white and frozen water.

She heard loud gasps coming from behind and shocked comments such as:

"Sir, you _didn't."_

"Oh God, he's a dead man."

"I was not a part of this in any shape or form! I didn't see anything!"

"You broke Rule Number Three!"

But the one she heard the most audible was, "Ha, HA! I got YOU, Lieutenant! Now you've been hit four times like the rest of us! One more hit and all I'll have left is Fullmetal and then I'll _finally _get my slap! Ha, ha!"

Hawkeye wiped the snow from her face and held it in her hand wordlessly, but with a very loud glare that screamed, "You just signed your own funeral, ass face." She held the snow securely and Mustang sweat dropped, "Uh…wait! What are you doing? Crap! Wait, Lieutenant, think this over for a second! Rule Number Three!"

"You're dead, now, sir." Falman mumbled.

"Sweet, now we'll win!" Havoc whispered to himself.

"I don't like where this is going," Breda murmured.

"I can't watch!" Fuery cried, taking off his glasses.

Squeezing the snow lightly, Hawkeye pulled her arm back, ignoring Mustangs cries of, "Rule Number Three. Rule Number Three! Rule Number Three! RULE NUMBER THREE! RULE NUMBER _THREE!"_

She stretched her arm outward, her hand moving directly at Mustang, the snow ready to smash into his face, and then there was a soft _SPLAT! _Riza frowned when she saw Breda's arm protecting the Colonel, and the arm that was now smothered with snow that had quickly become slush.

"Don't worry, sir," Breda said, pulling his arm back and wiping the snow off his sleeve. "I've got your back; I won't let us lose."

There were cries of:

"Way to take one for the team!"

"Boo! I wanted to see some _action!"_

"How disappointing."

But the loudest exclamation was Mustang's, "Ha … ha ha … ha, ha, HA! HA HA! Yes! Breda, I _LOVE _YOU! YOU GET A RAISE! STARTING TOMORROW, YOU'RE SALARY'S GOING _UP UP UP!"  
><em>Breda smiled cockily and shrugged, while Havoc and Falman cried out in outrage.

"That's cruel!"

"What about me? I'm on your team, too!"

Hawkeye let out a soft "Darn," and sat back in her seat, ignoring the Colonel's immature "WHOOP WHOOP!" of joy.

Fuery looked at his hands and counted his hands, "So now it's me, Havoc, Falman, Alphonse, _and _Breda who are out. Leaving the Colonel, Ed and the Lieutenant still in the game with one hit left each."

"Rule Number Seven, Fuery!" Mustang snapped.

"But … Ed's not here …"

"The Rule's for anything that has to _do _with the chief," Havoc supplied. "Apparently, the thought of the kid gives the Colonel a headache or something."

"A _big_ headache."

"Oh," Fuery mumbled. "…That's mean."

"Sir, can I say something?" Riza asked loudly.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" Mustang said … a little_ too_ cheerful. "Are you going to ask for some lessons on how you can be as good as a sneak as I am? I bet you didn't even see it coming!"

"No, sir. That's not it…"

"Is it that you want to apologize for being such a _loser?"_

"No, I want to tell you …"

"Oh, Oh! I know! You want me to not tell anyone about this _embarrassing _loss you just encountered, right? Is your pride really that fragile?

"Actually, sir…"

"Do you want to tell me that you –"

His sentence was cut off by a large _BAM! _that shifted the whole car and surrounded its occupants in total darkness. Fuery let out a shrill shriek at the sudden lack of clarity and there was a lot of shifting coming from the back.

"What happened?"

"I can't see! I've gone blind!"

"Help! Help!"

"Who's arm is this!"

"Who's stomach is this?"

"I can't breathe! I can't see! I can't breathe!"

"Everyone, _stay calm!" _Riza commanded, making everyone freeze. Satisfied with the response she received, she continued, "A snowplow truck just drove by and pushed all the snow on top of the car. At the moment, we've been temporarily buried by about six feet of snow because _someone_ thought gloating was more important than paying attention to my warnings."

There was a lapse of silence until:

"COLONEL!"

"You monster!"

"You've killed us all!"

"I CAN'T BREATHE!"

"What are we going to do! We're going to DIE!"

"SHUT UP!" Mustang bellowed. When everyone obeyed, he said, "I'll just simply raise the heat, making the car melt the snow surrounding us. Simple, see?" To show everyone, he turned the heat's knob to high, and when the needle hit the word "HIGH", the car froze and shut down, taking all the lights with it and silencing the engine completely.

"…What just happened?" Mustang asked with authentic confusion.

"You've exhausted the gas." Hawkeye answered calmly. "The car's dead."

Silence, and then:

"WE'RE GOING TO DIE!"

"I CAN'T SEE! OH GOD, I CAN'T _SEE!"_

"WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE INSIDE A CAR!"

"I DON'T WANT TO DIE! I'M NOT READY TO SEE SUZIE AGAIN!"

"HELP! HELP US! HELP! OH GOD, SOMEBODY HELP US!"

"I NEED TO GET OUT, I CAN'T BREATHE! I THINK I'M HAVING A STROKE!"

Mustang growled and yelled, "DAMMIT, PEOPLE! RULE NUMBER EIGHT!" But nobody paid him any mind so he just ignored his panicking subordinates – they'll tire themselves out eventually – and reached into his coat pocket to fetch his ignition gloves.

"What are you doing?" Riza asked warily.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm getting us of here." He shook his head amusingly, "Use that brains of yours, Lieutenant."

Hawkeye narrowed her eyes at him dangerously. "If you start a fire in here, _sir, _in such a tight space, might I add, it will only do more damage than good." Mustang didn't look convinced, so she added, "I don't know much about fire alchemy, but with the air tight space we're in, I'm almost positive that you won't be able to control the fire."

Mustang stared at her and then sighed.

"Lieutenant."

"Yes?"

"What's your name?"

"…Riza Hawkeye, sir."

"That's right,_" _He said seriously. "Riza Hawkeye, not Flame Alchemist! OH. HOW DID I FORGET. MY MISTAKE. So, then, please enlighten me. Who is the Flame Alchemist, again?"

"…You."

"I'm sorry, what? I couldn't here you there?"

"You." She grumbled, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, yeah! That's right! _I'm _the Flame Alchemist! Not you, but _me! _Psh, it must have slipped my mind; thanks for reminding me, Hawkeye. You are _so _helpful."

The woman's eye twitched.

The Colonel chuckled and slipped on glove and smirked, "Watch the master and be amazed." He pointed his hand to the window, planning to melt the snow near the door first to let himself out, and snapped. All the yelling from behind stopped as they watched a small spark ignite from the Colonel's forefinger. But then they all paled when the fire didn't follow the orders it was given and instead flew backwards, behind the four men. A light brimmed from behind the back seat and smoke became to form.

"I am so _very _amazed, sir," Riza muttered, watching as the small fire slowly spread around the back. "Crap…" Roy groaned loudly.

Breda was the first to react, "WHAT THE HELL, COLONEL! ARE YOU TRYING TO ROAST US!"

"IT'S SPREADING! IT'S SPREADING!"

"HOT! HOT! HOT! HOT!"

"WE'RE GOING TO DIE. WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!"

"PUT IT OUT! THROW A BLANKET OR SOMETHING!"

"Good idea, Havoc!" Mustang said hurriedly, quickly stripping his jacket off and handing it to Jean. "Hurry and throw this over it!"

"I don't think –" But her insight went unheard, and Hawkeye unwillingly witnessed Jean throw the jacket over the fire, and also had to watch as the fire ate the jacket and grow.

She turned to Roy, "Good job, _Flame _Alchemist. Remind me next time to take notes."

More screaming came from behind and Mustang began to sweat, and then finally, he howled, "MY CAR! SAVE THE CAR! PLEASE, SAVE MY CAR!"

"OH GOD, IT'S GETTING CLOSER!"

"PUT IT OUT!"

"HOW!"

"STOP DROP AND ROLL!"

"THROW SOMEONE AT IT!"

"GREAT IDEA! I VOLUNTEER BREDA!"

"WHAT! WHY ME?"

"I WANT THAT RAISE!"

"YOU MONSTER!"

"THE FIRE! PUT IT OUT! HURRY! I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"

Hawkeye gave one last, large sigh and shook her head. A part of her wanted to watch all these idiots burn for their stupidity – namely, one _specific _person – but she decided against it and pulled out her handgun. Pointing it to the ceiling, she shot all the rounds into a circular motion, and then kicked the middle of the bulleted circle. The metal dropped to the floor, along with a large block of snow, and she climbed out of the hole without a word.

Everyone watched her as she did so and then, within a blink of an eye, everyone began _viciously _pushing each other to get out first. Mustang was out first, and he got a kick in the leg. Then Havoc, leaving with a bloody lip from Falman's thrashing. Then Vato came out, his hair completely in shambles after Breda tried to pull him back in by his hair. Then Breda was out next, and he had some bite marks on his arms thanks to Fuery's attempt to stop him. And finally, poor Fuery scrambled out in a panic, bruises all over his body from being pushed and kicked by everybody else.

Everyone ran to where Hawkeye was standing and away from the burning car, all out of breath.

Mustang fell to his knees in front of the burning vehicle and held his head, "My car … my beautiful, beautiful car!"

"Good riddance," Hawkeye mumbled, walking away from the scene.

Her coworkers chased after her and Havoc asked, "W-where are you going?"

"Home," she answered easily.

"Um, but what about the Colonel?" Fuery asked, gesturing to his boss who was still kneeling on the floor, drawing cars on the snow with his fingers and mumbling incoherent sentences.

"Leave him to wallow in his stupidity. Maybe he'll learn a thing or two from this," Hawkeye said, turning her back on her grief stricken boss, her colleagues by her side, itching to just _go home _and sleep and forget that all this ever happened.

Mustang sniffed, "My beautiful, beautiful, precious car…"

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><p><strong>((UNEDITED))<strong>

((My attempt at shortening this chapter in order to start my astronomy project: A failure. Oh well~))

ALSOOOO! **Nutella Alchemist, **you are the first person to ever propose to me on Fanfiction! Haha, but oh no! I'm not of age to get married! Wait a couple of years ;)

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><p><strong>NEXT CHAPTER:<strong> _Characters:__ Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric_


	7. The Seventh Day

**The Twelve Days of Disaster**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I own nothing on this site except for my imaginations

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><p><em><strong>The Seventh Day<strong>_

**Characters:** Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric

**Summary: **Ed and Al babysit Elicia for a few hours at the Hughes' home. How the neighbors didn't hear them this whole time, Hughes will never know.

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><p>"Thank you so much for doing this, boys. You don't know how much we appreciate it." Gracia said hurriedly as she pulled her jacket on.<p>

Ed smiled at the woman sincerely and said, "It's no problem at all. We're glad to help."

"Now remember," Hughes began as he pulled on one of his boots while hopping on one foot. "Bedtime is at eight, foods in the fridge, and no candy." The last thing he said was pointed at Alphonse.

Al sighed when the man looked at him while he raised his eyes knowingly, "Yes, yes."

"Good, good, now make sure you _don't _open the door to anyone but us, or let Elicia go out or into the kitchen unsupervised or near the presents." Then he added quickly, "That goes for you guys, too. Do _not _peek!"

"We won't, jeez! We're not kids," Ed scoffed exasperatedly. He pushed Hughes out the door when the man had opened his mouth to probably say something completely unimportant, "Go, go. You're going to be late, so get out!"

"He's right, dear," Gracia said, grabbing her husband's arm. "If we're late, we won't be able to find a good photographer in time."

"Right, fine, I'm coming," Maes whined, following his wife out the door, but turning to Ed and Al first and saying, "Don't touch the oven, either!" Ed rolled his eyes and slammed the door in Hughes' face.

Ed's happy expression did a complete flip and that somber look that he had on since yesterday returned.

It was silent except for the ticking of the large grandfather clock, making that slow, repeating _tick, tick, tick._

Al broke the silence, "So, what do you want to do?"

Ed frowned, shot a glare at the armor, and stormed out of the room and into the living room where Elicia was slouched over on the couch, watching some brainwashing kid's show on Hughes' new, tiny TV that he probably bought himself for Christmas.

Al made a clicking noise of disapproval when his brother fell back on the couch next to the little girl and completely disregarded him, "Brother! How long are you going to keep ignoring me?"

Ed didn't reply, and just watched the show with feign fascination.

Al sighed. Ever since the snow ball fight – or _war _as Ed and the Colonel had been dubbing it lately – Ed had been a sourpuss over the whole thing. Mainly because of the fact that he was "betrayed by his own little brother".

Drama queen.

All of yesterday, Ed had been avoiding his younger brother or just completely ignoring him when Al tried to start a conversation. It was frustrating for Al's part because Ed literally pretended that the suit of armor didn't exist. The phone rang once and Al answered it, and when he tried to hand the phone to Ed because the person calling wanted to speak with him, he just left the room without a word! Some nerve!

Then they had gotten the call from Hughes a few minutes ago. Apparently the man had completely forgotten to hire a photographer to take his Christmas pictures he made a last minute decision to see the professional as fast as they could.

Ed had immediately accepted Hughes offer to babysit Elicia, mostly because he wanted to get away from Al (because, as Ed said, Al gave out an evil vibe that he did not want around). But Hughes had insisted that they both come, just to be safe.

So, here they were. A suit of armor, a grumpy blonde, an oblivious little girl, and a character on the TV show that can't find her way around a mountain or something.

Al went to Elicia instead and asked her sweetly, "So, Elicia. What do you want to do?"

"Eh…" The girl shrugged lazily, her eyes transfixed on the show that was trying to teach it's viewers a different language – probably Xingese.

"Don't you want to play something with me?" Al asked.

"Eh…" She shrugged again.

"She knows that if she plays with you, she'll just end up getting stabbed in the back," Ed muttered loud enough for Al to hear. "Right, Elicia?"

"Eh…"

"You can't still be on this, Brother," Al said tiresomely. "It was just a game, why do you have to be such a sore loser about it?"

"Me? The sore loser?" Ed asked incredulously. "I'm the one who's still in the game; you're the one who _lost!"_

"Even so, I'm still not the one who's acting like a baby about it!"

"A _baby?"_ Ed repeated in a disbelieving tone. "Al, _anyone _would be mad if they had to endure what I had! My own brother chose to abandon me in my time of need to help the _colonel. _Do you see how ridiculous that is?_" _He turned to Elicia, "You see it, don't you?"

"Eh…" The girl muttered, confused on how that cartoon girl didn't realize that if she wants to get to the mountain, all she'll have to do is cross the bridge that's right in front of her.

"It was only to be fair, Brother!" Al defended. "If I had sided with you, the teams would have been uneven and we would have overpowered them. I just wanted to be a fair sport…"

"Fairness has nothing to do with the fact that you _left me._" Ed got off the couch and stood in front of his brother defiantly. He jabbed hard at Al's chest, "The _one _time where I desperately needed your help, you turned your back on me. Do you realize how that makes me feel? To be stabbed in the back by the one person I trusted the most?"

"You're over exaggerating this –"

"No! You're _under _exaggerating this!" Ed snapped. "But that's not even the worst part! The worst part was when you agreed to the bet!"

"Oh…" Al said embarrassingly. He didn't think Ed actually heard him agree…

"Yeah, _oh." _Ed hissed, sitting back down next to the little girl, who was now grumbling on how this TV show was stupid and boring. "My own brother wants to inflict pain upon me. Can you believe this, Elicia?"

"Eh…"

"I'm sorry, I just –"

"I don't want to hear your excuses, Alphonse! You hurt me. You hurt me here," he pointed to the right side of his chest, "and that's where it hurts the _most."_

"I hurt your lung? When did I do that?" Al asked, perplexed.

"Wha – no! The heart!"

"The heart's on the _left _side, Brother."

"You know what I mean!" Ed huffed, sitting back down and then yelling to Elicia, "What the hell are we watching, anyways?"

"Zhu-Xia The Explorer." Elicia answered. "I hafta help her get to the mountain 'cause she's dumb."

"Why doesn't she just use that bridge?"

"Th' what I told her! She won't lis'n!" Elicia cried, the same distress in Ed's voice was evident in her's as well, Al noticed.

"Why would she need a two year old to help her? Isn't she an explorer?" Ed asked, truly frustrated with the show.

"I d'nt know! She's 'tupid!"

"Obviously."

Then the character – Zhu-Xia – turned to her audience and said, "_which way should we use? The bridge? The river? Or the rocks?"_

"The bridge!" Elicia and Ed yelled at the same time. There was a three second pause in the show where the animated girl just stared at them and then said, "_No, not the river, silly! We don't have a boat!"_

"We said the bridge, you idiot!" Ed hollered.

There was another pause, and then, _"The rocks? No way, Yúchǔn. That's too difficult!"_

"Yúchǔn?" Ed asked. "What the hell?"

"That means 'silly'," Elicia supplied.

"She teaches you Xingese?" Al curiously asked.

Elicia nodded, "Yup!"

"_That's right! The bridge! Good job, everyone! I couldn't have done this without your help!"_

"Is she serious? There is no way she went to college for exploring and passed," Ed scoffed.

"_Do you all know how to say Bridge?"_

"Bridge." Ed answered, sitting back down and already annoyed with the fictional character.

"_In order for us to get to the bridge, we're going to have to say it together! Are you ready?"_

"Eh…" Elicia and Ed both said, waving their hands dismissively.

"_Qiáo! Say it with me, everybody! Qiáo!"_

"Tiao?" Ed tried to pronounce.

"_Qiáo."_

"Chow?"

"_Qiáo!"_

"Chayoi!" Elicia chirped.

"_One more time! Qiáo!"_

"Meow!" Elicia chirped while Ed said, "Screw this!"

"_Good job, Péngyǒu! You've really helped us! Now let's go! Go!_ _Qù! Qù"_

"Choo! Choo!" Elicia barked at the TV.

Zhu-Xia made her way to the bridge, while singing some obnoxious song about _crossing the_ _Qiáo._ Elicia sang along out of key while Ed groaned, "Oh, she's an explorer _and_ a singer now? How!"

Zhu-Xia made it to the purple mountain – apparently she was on her way there to pick up an injured star (_"Really! An Injured star! How is this show successful!") – _But she stopped mid-way up the mountain when some kind of ferret-fox animal came in her way.

"_Oh no! It's Snatcher!"_

"I like Snatcha 'cause he make Zhu-Xia mad_," _Elicia said.

"Who the hell is Snatcher? Is he like zombie road kill or something?" Ed asked, looking at the oddly drawn animal.

"Snatcha steals from Zhu," she answered.

"_Nehehe! Zhu-Xia! Give me that backpack!"_ Snatcher said in a nasally, evil voice.

"_No! This is my backpack!"_

"_If you don't give it to me, I'm going to have to snatch it off of you!"_

"_Oh no! Did you hear that, everyone? He's going to snatch it! But snatching is wrong, right?"_

"It depends, really," Ed muttered.

"_That's right, it is wrong, so how do we stop snatcher?"_

"Hit him in the head, or shoot him in the face."

"_That's right! Snatcher no snatch! Say it with me everybody!"_

"Why?"

"_Snatcher no snatch!"_

"What good is that going to do?" Ed asked the television box. "Punch him in the kidney!"

"_One more time! Snatcher no snatch!"_

"_No! Urgh, you win again Zhu-Xia! But next time, I will snatch from you, you'll see!" _The creepy red animal said, shaking his fist at the girl as he walked away.

Ed looked genuinely appalled, which began to frighten Al slightly. "Where the hell are you going, you stupid fox snake thing! Go back! Eat her! Take the backpack! You have the advantage here! You're on the top of the food chain, you mutt! Go back! _Eat her!"_

"_Thank you so much for helping me everybody!" _Zhu-Xia sighed, clutching her chest as if she just survived a near death experience. "_Xièxiè! Thank you!"_

"Nobody helped you, you dumb bimbo! Nobody even likes you!" Ed yelled.

"Yeah!" Elicia cried out joyfully, mimicking her big brother. "Bimbo! Bimbo!"

Al was beginning to doubt his brother's influence on the little girl. She was sitting in the exact same style as Ed and when she talked, she would wave her hands arounf dramatically just like Ed would. That was not good. One Ed was bad enough…

"_We've finally made it to the mountain, thanks to your help!"_

"We didn't help you," Ed and Elicia muttered in the same tone.

"_Now we can help Lighty down the mountain and back to her home!"_

"Lighty lives in space! How will you bring her to space, Miss Explorer?"

"_Would you like to help me bring Lighty to my cousin, Liao, so he can help her? He's a doctor! Say it with me! Yīshēng!"_

"NO!" Both of them shouted, Elicia quickly running up to the set and turning the whole thing off.

"Thank God," Al sighed. The clock chimed loudly and rang eight times, signaling the hour it was currently. "Oh, it's bedtime, Elicia!"

The girl slipped out of the couch without a word and walked to her room silently, rubbing her eyes as she did. The poor girl was really tired, it seemed.

When Al sat down next to his brother, preparing to fruitlessly start another conversation, he heard Elicia call out, "I want a bedtime story!"

Ed looked at Al and said, "Go." But then Elicia yelled, "From both brothers!"

Ed groaned and got up to see the girl, as did Al. She had already tucked herself in her bed, curled up in her polka dot blankets and looked ready for rest. But her face was lit bright, shining with the determination to get a bedtime story.

Ed sat at the foot of her bed while Al towered over the girl.

"You want a story?" Ed asked for confirmation, and the girl nodded vigorously. He sighed. She was too cute to ignore. So Ed cleared his throat and said. "Okay, once upon a time, there was some sort of princess who was all depressed. She had like, a bunch of evil stepsisters that made her work with rats or something like that, and one day, her grandma asked her to get a pie for her. She met a big, bad wolf who gave her an apple that turned her into a mermaid, I think. But she wanted feet so her fairy godmother gave her a dress and a pumpkin or something and she kissed a giant bear-person and she lived happily ever after. The End. Good night."

"No!" Elicia cried. "I want a Chwistmas story! Chwistmas!"

"Just throw in a Christmas Tree in my story and bam! A Christmas story. Now go to sleep."

"Chwistmas story! Chwistmas story!"

"I don't know any Christmas stories," Ed argued with the stubborn girl.

"Just make one up, Brother," Al supplied.

"Why don't _you _make one up? Why is it always me?" Ed exclaimed.

"Fine, fine. I'll tell you a story, Elicia," Al said sweetly to the little girl. The girl sat back on her bed and listened intently as Al began.

"Once upon a time, there lived two happy brothers…"

"—Don't forget to mention that I'm tall!" Ed interrupted.

"Brother, this isn't about us."

"Still. Make sure I'm tall."

Al sighed. "Fine. Once upon a time, there lived two happy brothers. The oldest brother was tall and the younger brother was –"

"A back-stabber."

"—normal height." Al said, shooting him a glare as best he could with an unchangeable facial expression. "They were told by the Princess –"

"Me!" Elicia cried.

"By Princess Elicia, that there was only one present that she wanted the most –"

"For this story to get better."

"—For a diamond –"

"Pony! Pony!" Elicia chanted.

"For a diamond … pony." Al said awkwardly. "The two brothers had to travel to the North Pole to ask Santa for the pony, but Santa said that he didn't have any ponies because –"

"There a no such things as diamond ponies." Ed said.

"Do you want to tell the story?" Al grunted irritably.

"Maybe I do! Since you're obviously going nowhere with this," Ed said, and looked at Al sternly. "So, the two brothers go to find the diamond pony but Santa said that some evil elves had taken it –"

"But elves are loyal to Santa!"

"—Because _sometimes_ even the most loyal people will turn their backs on you," Ed said, shooting a glare towards Al. "So the two brothers chase after the elves and find them in an igloo in the North Pole."

"Igloo? Why an igloo?"

"What else is there in the North Pole?" Ed snapped. He shook his head and continued, "and _then _when the brothers were fighting to get the diamond pony back, one of the elves said, "Oh no. This isn't fair! You guys are too strong! We'll never be able to win against you!"

Al wanted to smile. Ed was going to be mature and end this story with a nonviolent, happy ending. How sweet and thoughtful of him/ That was very nice and considerate thing of him to do for Elicia. Maybe Ed was turning over a new leaf or…

"So the younger, _shorter _brother said, 'How about I join you guys to defeat my brother because I hate him and I want to see him die a bloody death! Ha ha!'"

"Brother!" Al gasped.

"Don't act surprised, you know that's how it all went!" Ed said, cutting his brother off. "Now listen to the story, dammit! So the younger brother went to fight on the elves' side and the older brother was so distracted by the betrayal that they killed the older brother easily and threw his body in the water so that the polar bears can eat him. Moral of the story: don't trust anybody because they'll only get you killed. The end."

Al shook his helmet rapidly and said, "No! That's not how it ended! The brothers talked with the elves and made them give back the pony to Santa and the brothers helped him deliver all the presents and the princess finally got her diamond pony."

"That's stupid and so unrealistic! Why would the elves just decide to go back to Santa?"

"Because they learned their mistake," Al said.

"Nobody just _learns _from their mistakes, Al. What if Santa was abusing those elves and they all ran away to avoid getting hurt? You just made it so they go back to an abusive Santa Claus. Are you happy with yourself now?"

"No way! Santa would never hurt his elves! He loves each and every one of them dearly."

"Ha! That's a loud of crap! If he loves them so much, why did he force them to do all his work, huh? Do you know how hard it is to make a pony out of diamonds?"

"But it was for a good cause!" Al reasoned. "It was so the princess can be happy on Christmas!"

"Oh, yeah? Then what about the Elves, huh? What do they get? What about their happiness?" Ed said, rounding his brother up.

"They get love!" Al cried out desperately, not trying to let his brother's corrupt thoughts get through to him.

"Love doesn't pay the bills, Al! You can't go to the bank and exchange the love for money! The world doesn't work that way."

"But they live with Santa Claus! He gives them each a home for free!"

"For _free?" _Ed asked amusingly. "He works them half to death just so they can eat and sleep! I bet they all sleep in the same room because Santa's too cheap to buy a real place for them."

"But they only work during Christmas, the rest of the year they relax and have fun!"

"You really think it takes one day to make a billion different presents? Be rational, Al! Stop living in a fantasy world! The elves work _every day _for that cold bastard just so snotty brats can wake up happy!"

"No! No! But then what about the reindeer, huh? They're definitely happy!" Al yelped.

"Ha! Remember Rudolph? He was _bullied _by the other reindeer and Santa did nothing! He was about to kill himself, that's how bad Rudolph felt!"

"But he didn't and Santa helped him!"

"Yeah, after his self-esteem took a nose dive!"

While the brother's argument continued, they failed to notice two things. One, was that Elicia was fast asleep, dreaming about diamond ponies and an ice cream world. And two, that Maes and Gracia Hughes had already returned home and were watching silently from the room's door as the brother's bickered.

"Should we stop them before they hurt themselves?" Gracia whispered, concerned. Ed seriously looked like he was about to explode.

"Nah," Maes said, waving off her concern. "They'll tire themselves off eventually, plus it looks like Elicia really likes it."

To prove his point, Elicia snuggled deeper into her blankets with a smile when the boys' voices rose considerately.

"I'm going to go get my camera, make sure they don't break anything!" Maes said in a whisper, running to the other room as silently as he could, searching for his disposable camera.

"Okay, dear," She replied, watching as Al held his head in distress as he tried to explain that _no_, Mrs. Claus does not eat the reindeer and that is _not _why she's so fat.

Gracia sighed at the boys and only had one thought:

It's going to be a crazy Christmas this year, for sure.

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><p><strong>((UNEDITED))<strong>

**((Review, please! And congrats to Rachel Elric for being the 30th reviewer! You get a big fudge brownie!))**

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><p><strong>NEXT CHAPTER:<strong> _Characters: Roy Mustang, Edward Elric_


	8. The Eighth Day

**The Twelve Days of Disaster**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own FMA and I'm proud. (No I'm not, it kills me every day.)

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><p><em><strong>The Eighth Day<strong>_

**Characters: **Roy Mustang, Edward Elric

**Summary: **The Flame Alchemist and The Fullmetal Alchemist join together to help Maes Hughes … bake?

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><p>Maes had to stop and congratulate himself. So far, everything was going smoothly. There were three more days left until the big Christmas dinner, not to mention Christmas Eve itself. The house was decorated for the occasion, all the presents have been purchased and wrapped, and everyone was in a jolly good mood.<p>

Not.

Maes had to stop and _scold _himself. So far, everything was a _disaster_. There was only three more days left until the big Christmas dinner, not to mention Christmas Eve itself and he was _not _ready. The house was mess, there were still presents that were waiting to be wrapped and everybody seemed to _hate _each other.

The photographer was supposed to arrive today but he had postponed the date until the day before Christmas Eve, which Hughes had not been too happy about. Not only that, but the bakery in which they had bought their pastries and desserts from every year had a small fire and was closed down for the time being.

Wonderful.

So in order to meet with the criteria of surplus, Hughes had to make a very difficult decision that he knew that he would regret almost immediately. But he was desperate. Gracia had gone out; gone to take Elicia to her parents' house for the day, and Hughes had no one else to turn to.

Really, it's true. If there were anyone else, he would have asked for their help. Really. But nobody else was available. Nobody but two other people. But Maes was desperate to get this done. He really was! He would do _anything _to make this Christmas perfect.

So he picked up the phone and called. Then he waited.

The first person to come was Ed. He was still grumpy over the little argument he and Alphonse had yesterday and even more grumpy for the fact that he had to work with _that bastard._ But he pitied Hughes for his little dilemma so he mustered up the strength to come and swallowed his pride and agreed.

He would help Hughes bake with _him._

Not long after Ed had arrived, the bell rung. Maes answered it and vigorously thanked the man for doing this for him.

"Save it," Roy Mustang said, shedding his coat and hanging it on the rack as he walked in. "I'm only doing this because you practically _begged _me to come. And because I want some cake."

But when he walked into the kitchen and found Ed sitting there on the table with a disgusted look on his face, Mustang turned around and made his way to the door. Hughes ran to stop him, "Come on, Roy! You promised to help me!"

"Yes, but you didn't mention that _he _would be here," Mustang said, shooting Ed a glare. Ed stuck his tongue at the man immaturely.

"Come on! I'm sure you guys can put up with each other for just a few hours. Please? For me?" Maes asked.

Mustang seriously considered saying no and just walking out the door. But he eventually did give in to Hughes' pleading and sighed dejectedly. "Fine."

Maes beamed at that. He patted Roy on the back and walked back into the kitchen, Mustang following him disappointedly. He pulled up a chair opposite of Ed and greeted bitterly, "Fullmetal."

"Bastard," Ed greeted back somberly. When Hughes had called him earlier, asking (pleading) for his help, Ed was a little skeptical. But his suspicion was answered when he agreed and then before hanging up, Hughes said quickly, "Oh, and Mustang's coming! Thanks, bye!"

Ed was appalled when he heard that. _Mustang? _Hughes expected him to _bake _with that bastard? Is he serious? He had planned to not come at all and just sleep in, but then … _Al. _His brother had nagged at him that he _must _go; that he had already agreed. So, in order to satisfy Al (to get away from Al), Ed had gone.

He really wished he hadn't, though.

Just being near Mustang pissed him off.

"So," Ed said idly while Hughes rummaged the cabinets for supplies. "I heard Hawkeye got Breda."

"Perhaps," Mustang said, a little disappointed at how fast the word had spread.

"Bummer," Ed said with feign sadness. "So what, now its two against one?"

"Maybe."

"And you're all by yourself, huh? Poor you."

Mustang smirked, "I hope you're not implying that you could defeat me. How do you expect to win when you can't even raise the snowball high enough to reach me?"

"WHO ARE _YOU _CALLING SHORT?" Ed burst.

Roy leered, "With a temper like that, you'll never be able to win."

"Oh? And you think _you'll _be the winner? That's rich," Ed scoffed, cockily sitting back in seat with a sly smile, "You keep forgetting that I have _Hawkeye._ There's no way I could lose with her on my side."

Mustang wrinkled his nose, "…Hawkeye would never try to go against me."

"Please! She's the only person that got you! You're nothing without her!" Ed grinned. "Just accept defeat, Colonel. Save yourself from the pain and just give up, that way I could give you your much deserved slap."

"If anyone's getting slapped, it's you, _shrimp." _Mustang sneered.

"_Useless." _Ed shot back.

"Here we are!" Hughes said suddenly, placing cups, spoons, bowls, two wire whisks, about five boxes of cake mix, jars of frosting, measuring cups and whole bunch of other supplies that Ed didn't bother to identify on the table.

"How many cakes do you expect us to make?" Mustang asked incredibly.

"Not just cake," Hughes said eagerly. "But brownies, cupcakes, and cookies."

"Do we look like bakers to you?" Ed asked. "We're alchemists, not chefs!"

"But I thought alchemy was born from the kitchen," Hughes said.

"Yes, well, it's not meant to be taken literally," Mustang muttered, reading the back of one of the cake mix boxes. "But this doesn't seem too difficult, and I'm sure Fullmetal's tiny brain can comprehend some of these simple steps."

Ed's face went bright red and he fumed, "_TINY? _WHO ARE _YOU –"_

But Hughes cut him off quickly by slapping his hand over the boy's mouth and shot a glare at Mustang, "Can you at least _pretend _to be mature?" Roy shrugged wordlessly.

When Ed stopped thrashing from under his grip, Maes let him go and sighed, "Let's try to do this without any fights, please?"

Ed huffed, "Tell that to _him."_

Mustang ignored him and said, "Just tell us what we should do so I can get this over with and go home."

With permission to begin, and gaining their full attention, Hughes explained. There were five desserts that needed to be made: Two cakes, one chocolate and one vanilla, a batch of brownies, two dozen sugar cookies and two dozen cupcakes.

Mustang had agreed to make the brownies and the cakes, while Edward was in charge of the cookies and cupcakes. All the instructions were in the back of the boxes, so Hughes presumed that they would have no problems.

So he left the room without any worry. He had other things to take care of and Roy and Ed could handle themselves. He promised to check up on them when they were done.

The first thing Mustang did when Hughes left the room was hold the whisk up and ask, "What is _this."_

"A whisk…" Ed answered slowly.

Roy poked at the … device. "What does it do?"

"_Really?"_

"What?"

Ed looked at him disbelievingly, "You've never seen a whisk before?"

"Should I have?"

Ed shook his head, "Yes! A whisk is used to mix things!"

Mustang looked at the thing again, "…Really? This thing?"

"You can't be serious…" Ed mumbled, shaking his head. "Just – give it to me. Let me show you … freakin' caveman."

Mustang gave Ed the whisk and watched him with pure fascination as he poured water, oil, and cake mix into a bowl and began to mix all the ingredients together with the whisk-thing.

Ed was a little scared at how amazed Mustang was.

When all the ingredients made a smooth, mushy liquid, he handed the bowl back to Mustang, who asked, "Now what?"

"Read the instructions," Ed said impatiently, starting his own batter.

Roy looked at the box and read the step out loud, "Add eggs?"

"Yup."

"That's it?"

"Yes, then just put it in the oven, jeez."

Mustang was a little unsure of the steps but followed them anyways. So he dropped the two eggs in the mix and put the bowl in the oven. "Done," he said with a smirk, as if it were a competition and he was the new champion.

"Whatever," Ed grumbled. "Now do the other cake."

Mustang did so, while Ed continued to prepare the mix for the cupcakes. Ed read the instructions on the back of the box once and had memorized instantly. Oil, water, mix, eggs, mix it all together: done. Next was putting the batter in each individual festive cupcake foil liners.

This part was always annoying. Each liner had to have a specific amount of batter in it so that the cupcakes wouldn't be too big or too small. He grabbed one of the spoons and, with careful precision, scooped the liquid and let it fall in the liner. Careful. Careful. Ever so careful…

All the while thinking, _'What the hell am I doing…?'_

"Done!" Mustang suddenly piped, holding another bowl with chocolate batter in it with great pride.

Ed didn't look up, "Great. Good for you. Now put it in the oven, oh great baker Mustang."

Roy ignored the brat's sarcasm and placed the bowl besides the previous one in the oven, while Ed watched him from the corner of his eye but then he stopped and looked at the Colonel suspiciously. "Wait…did you put the _bowl _in the oven?"

"Obviously," Mustang muttered.

"You idiot!" Ed cried, running to the oven.

"What?" Mustang asked confused.

Ed pulled the stove's door open and accidently touched the first bowl with his flesh hand. "Ow! – Crap!" He cried, pulling his hand back and peeling off the wax that used to be the plastic from the bowl. Ed shook his flesh hand and used his automail hand instead to pull the bowl out and set it on the table, and then did the same for the other bowl.

He groaned when the melted plastic stuck on his automail. _'Winry's gonna bury me alive for this…'_

"What happened? What's wrong?" Mustang asked as he hovered over a disgruntled Ed.

"What's wrong? _What's wrong? _You put _plastic _in the oven, you idiot!"

"So? That's what you told me to do!"

"You were supposed to put the mix in a steel pan!"

"How was I supposed to know?"

"Because every intellectual human being knows it! It's common sense!" Ed shouted at the man. He grabbed one of the pans and shoved it in the Colonel's face, "See! A _pan! _P-A-N!"

He took it from the boy swiftly and muttered, "Yes, I know what a pan is…"

"I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't," Ed grumbled and watched as Mustang poured the batter from the first bowl into the pan. He was met with a surprise when two small balls poured along with the liquid fell with a _flop! Flop!_

Ed was silent before he said quietly, "What is that?"

"The eggs," Mustang answered easily.

Ed closed his eyes and took in a long breathe before he looked at the Colonel and asked quietly, "You put the eggs … in the mix … just like that?"

Mustang nodded and Edward held his head as he shouted, "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"

Mustang was taken back slightly, "What? What's wrong!"

"You CANNOT POSSIBLY be THIS stupid!"

"Hey, don't insult my intelligence!" Roy cried irritably.

"WHAT INTELLIGENCE!" The boy shouted. "From what I see, YOU HAVE NO INTELLIGENCE WHATSOEVER!"

The man picked up the eggs and inspected them, "I don't see what I did that's got you so upset. I put the eggs in the bowl, just like you said."

Ed made an undefinable noised and swiped the egg away from the Colonel's grasp. He cracked the egg on the side of the table and let the yolk slip into the bowl, "This – _THIS – _is what I meant! This is what you're supposed to _do!"_

Mustang wrinkled his nose, "Then why didn't you just tell me from the start?"

He stared at the man in disbelief and pulled on his own hair, while muttering to the ceiling, "I can't. I can't even…"

Roy looked at the whole eggs and tried to mimic Ed by attempting to crack it open. He grabbed the egg and _slammed _it on the table, squishing the thing whole and allowing the yolk to go flying all over the place. He stared at the destroyed egg in puzzlement, not fully understanding why it didn't work.

"Just…" Ed sighed. "Just … give me the damn eggs." He did so and watched as Ed successfully cracked them open without any problems, all the while mumbling, "Me – teaching the Colonel how to open an egg – how? How could something like this happen to me?"

The rest of the baking went by smoothly without any incidents. Ed had managed to cut the cookie dough with the cookie cutter and Mustang had fully baked two cakes and was in the process of putting the brownies' pan into the stove.

Once the brownies were baked, all that would be left were the cookies and cupcakes and then Ed would be finished and he would _finally _be able to go home and pretend none of this ever happened.

An awkward silence lapped. There was nothing to say so they just sat on the table quietly and waited for the dessert to bake. Ed drummed his fingers while Roy silently dozed off on his chair. He actually began to _snore_ at one point, which really aggravated Edward because his snores were annoying as hell. They sounded like elephants farting, Ed thought gingerly.

Ed kicked at his chair, "Wake up, bastard."

He jolted awake, much to Ed's surprise, and slurred, "Huh? Wha – are we done? Can I go home?"

Ed snorted, "No. You were snoring like a pig."

"Fullmetal, I don't snore."

He narrowed his eyes, "Of course you don't, because that noise coming from your mouth while you slept was anything _but _a snore."

Mustang's own eyes narrowed as well, "Are you trying to be sarcastic or …?"

Ed rolled his eyes, "Never mind, you're too stupid to even understand anything anyways."

The Colonel frowned, "I'm going to go out and get some air. While I'm out, work on that attitude of yours, you pesky little brat…"

Ed's nostrils flared but Mustang was already out the door before Ed exploded. Once the door closed behind him, Roy shivered. _Damn, it's still cold as hell. _It had stopped snowing yesterday night, but the snow was still on the ground, but not as deep as previously, which was a good thing.

Mustang always did hate the snow.

Snow. _Snow. _Mustang smiled suddenly. _Snow! _

He bent down and picked up as much of the frozen liquid his hand was able to grab and he snickered quietly, _I'll show that brat who's stupid. _

When Ed heard the sound of the front door opening then closing, then the sound of footsteps approaching, he didn't bother looking up. He knew it was Mustang, and he didn't feel like wasting his energy to look up and see that jerk's face.

But he _did_ look up when the footsteps stopped right behind him and, his curiosity getting the better of him, he turned around to look at why Mustang was standing behind him.

His eyes widened considerably when he saw what was in the man's hand and he quickly and ungracefully scrambled to the other side of the room.

Mustang chuckled, "What's wrong, Fullmetal? Is something the matter?"

Ed pointed at him with a shaky finger. "W-What are you doing with that _thing_?" He asked nervously, gesturing at the snowball in the man's hand.

"Oh, this?" Mustang sang. "I was just standing outside, minding my own business, when I realized that we never got to settle that war from before." He caressed the ball of snow with his other hand.

Ed swallowed, "What are you planning to do with that?"

Mustang smirked viciously, "What do you _think _I'm going to do?"

"Now, Colonel … think this over!" Ed cried hastily, backing away.

"Oh, I have thought this over," Roy laughed. "I thought, 'hey, I throw this in your face, then get the Lieutenant and then I would win and then I would rent out a whole stadium and invite people to come and watch as I slap you.' Good idea, huh?"

Ed backed away deeper into the wall, "I swear, if you throw that thing at me I will transmute your face and ass together!"

"Totally worth it," Mustang said, creeping closer.

"I-I'm not kidding, Colonel!" Ed cried, moving away.

"Neither am I," Roy smiled. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy this _so _much!"

He pulled his arm back and into the position of throwing, and just when he was about to release the snowball, Ed grabbed one of the uncooked cupcakes and threw it at Mustang's face. Caught by the surprise of batter in his face, he dropped the snowball onto the ground and wiped his face viciously.

"You _brat!" _Mustang yelled when Ed began to howl with laughter. When he got the smooth liquid off his face, he glared at the boy.

Mustang dipped his hand into the remainder mix and grabbed the semi-liquid. He marched right to Ed and pushed his wet hand into the boy's face, wiping the pre-cake all over the boy.

"Ack!" Ed spat, feverously wiping the vanilla flavored mush off his face. "What the hell, Colonel! I hate vanilla!"

Mustang laughed, "Ha! In your face, you little monster! That's what you get!"

"_Little!_ I'll show you little!" Ed reached over to the eggs and smashed them on the Colonel's head, the yellow yolk sliding down his face. "Whoops. Sorry, I hope I didn't _scramble _your brain, there."

Mustang smiled despite his appearance and reached for the flour, "Nonsense," he said, then dumped the white powder on the boy's head. He snorted at the boy's now white appearance, "I think this new look of yours really takes the cake."

Ed coughed as a white cloud escaped his mouth, "You think you're funny?"

"I think I'm hilarious." Mustang responded.

Ed went to grab the cup of oil while Mustang reached for the whip cream can. At the same time, Ed threw the oil while Mustang sprayed the can of cream. But they didn't stop there to _appreciate _their new looks and quickly, they grabbed the closest object and threw it at one another.

This lasted until there was nothing left to throw. Ed was covered head to toe with whip cream, cake mix, water, sugar, salt while Mustang was dripping oil, water, yolk, pepper, and chocolate frosting.

Then, Ed ran to the fridge. He pulled its door open and grabbed the first thing he could find – grapes – and began to throw them at Mustang.

Roy jumped when each small grape hit him, "Ow – OW!—stop!" When Ed didn't though, he made his way to the fridge also and grabbed the container of milk and dumbed its contents on the boy's head.

Ed stared at the milk that dripped from his bangs in horror, "Ew! YUCK! Milk! You _MONSTER!"_

"Serves you right, pipsqueak!"

"_WHAT!" _Ed cried. He reached into the fridge and pulled out a tomato and smashed it in the Colonel's face. Ignoring the red on his face, Mustang grabbed a container of orange juice while Ed hurriedly grabbed the yogurt. When they were about to pour the fillings onto the other, a voice boomed from behind them:

"WHAT HAVE YOU TWO DONE!"

Ed and Roy both jumped and turned around, dropping the juice and yogurt on the floor as they did. Ed began to whistle and turned his head around and Mustang sheepishly smiled at Maes Hughes, "Hey … what's up …?"

Hughes' mouth was wide open as he stared at his destroyed kitchen. There were all kinds of foods smothered on the ground, and smoke coming out of the oven, and turned over bowls and cupcake fillers. Hughes gaped at his guests in horror, "What – what did you _do!"_

"It was his fault!" Both Ed and Roy shouted quickly, pointing at the other. They glared at each other and began to shout at Maes at the same time, trying to explain what happened.

"HE GOT A SNOWBALL –"

"—CALLED ME STUPID—"

"—CANT CRACK AN EGG!—"

"FRIDGE! SEE, LOOK!—"

"—MILK ON MY HEAD!—"

"—CALLED ME STUPID!—"

"CALLED ME SHORT! I –"

"YOU ARE SHORT!"

"WELL, YOU'RE AN IDIOT!"

"WHAT! HOW DARE YOU MOCK ME!"

"YOU CAN'T EVEN CRACK AN EGG!"

"YOU CAN'T EVEN SEE OVER THE TABLE!"

"WHO ARE _YOU _CALLING SO SHORT –"

Hughes watched as the two alchemists shouted at one another over whose fault it was, completely ignoring his presence. He made his way out of the kitchen and flopped himself on the sofa lazily, disregarding the bickering pair.

Really, it was _his _fault to begin with.

He should have known this would never have worked out. But he was desperate.

Hughes sighed when the smoke alarm started to wildly shriek.

He was really looking forward to the brownies, too. Oh well. Maybe next year.

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><p><strong>((UNEDITED))<strong>

((I'm so sick today that its disgusting to even think about how sick I am. No school for me so I had mucho time to write this one. After chapter nine, all characters will be included in the remaining ones. Hope you guys enjoyed them so far!))

**((CONGRATS TO ****JAZZYMON**** FOR BEING THE 40****TH**** REVIEWER! WHOHOO! You get an apple pie and a milkshake for reviewing every chapter! You are awesome, child!))**

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><p><strong>NEXT CHAPTER:<strong> _Characters: __Riza Hawkeye, Vato Falman, Jean Havoc, Roy Mustang, Edward Elric, Heymans Breda, Kain Fuery (Special Guest: Alex Armstrong!)_


	9. The Ninth Day

**The Twelve Days of Disaster**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing on this site except for my imaginations

_**The Ninth Day**_

**Characters: **Riza Hawkeye, Vato Falman, Jean Havoc, Roy Mustang, Edward Elric, Heymans Breda, Kain Fuery (Special Guest: Alex Armstrong!)

**Summary: **It's time for the office Christmas Party!

A/N – This chappy is long because of the no update yesterday, and also dedicated to **Nutella Alchemist **who gave me the inspiration (unintentionally) for the end bit. And also because said reviewer asked (demanded!) for it! Enjoy.

Ed didn't know whether to categorize this little gathering as awkward, creepy, or just plain disturbing. Yes, most of those adjectives Ed used are all the same in a sense, but _still. _It was really weird seeing a bunch of grown men acting so casual when he's seen them buried in paperwork or saluting stiffly.

It scared him, really.

The Fuhrer had called for this party and Mustang forced everyone to attend, as he did every year, so that all his subordinates and coworkers would be distracted and too oblivious to realize just how low their Christmas Bonus checks were.

And it worked, every year.

Because Mustang was smart. He knew how to get around people's heads; he knew how manipulate them.

What he did was every year, he would force his faculty to attend the Fuhrer's Christmas Party at the Mess Hall in Central Command for some free (courtesy of him. How nice.) food and alcohol – mostly alcohol. Everybody would be so happy with his kind gesture that they would take complete advantage of the free food and alcohol – mostly alcohol, and devour it all quickly.

And then that's when Mustang would strike. He, himself, might be somewhat intoxicated, but not as much as the rest of his subordinates. Every year, it was always the same thing. Jean would be the first person to get drunk. He was always the "Over-Enthusiastic" drunk. One moment he's dancing on tables singing happily to some horrendous song, and the next moment he's bawling on the floor, tears streaming down his eyes because he can't remember the rest of the lyrics.

Then there was Breda, and he was scary when he was drunk. He was the "Needs-An-Excuse-To-Hit-Someone" drunk. Ed had been warmed previously several times to _stay far away _from Breda when he had a drink in his hand. Two years ago, Fuery left the party with a bloody ice-pack over his nose.

Then it was Falman. Falman was the "No-Balance" drunk, where'd he trip over everything, solid and imaginary. It was always smart to steer him away from the tables with all the food and alcohol (mostly alcohol).

Poor Fuery was the worst. He's always being pressured to drink regardless of his refusals. Eventually, he'd submit to the peer pressure and drink. And drink, and drink and _drink _until finally somebody was sober enough to realize that Fuery had had his full. But it was always too late, because Kain was a light drinker and at that moment, he'd become the "Touchy-Feely" Fuery, where he doesn't know the meaning of personal space.

Mustang had always prided himself for being able to hold down his drinks, but his peers thought otherwise. At the beginning of the party, Hughes had told Ed, "Now Roy, he's one you have to watch out for. When he has a little too much, he starts turning everything into a competition, and you _don't _want to ever get mixed up in those, because he becomes _very _childish."

True, Ed did not want to get mixed up with Mustang when he was intoxicated. Hell, he didn't even like being _near _Mustang when he was sober.

Actually, overall, in general, and on top of all things, Ed didn't even want to _be here _in the first place! He had received the fancy, military stamped envelope that held a letter that _cordially invited Edward Elric to attended the Christmas celebration held at the Mess Hall of Central Command Center on December 21__st__. We await your confirmation and arrival. Signed, Fuhrer King Bradley._

If it weren't for Mustang, Ed would not have come. But he did come, because the Colonel had told him that since the Fuhrer threw these little bashes, anyone who was invited _must _come or the Fuhrer would be disappointed. Bradley took great pride in his corny parties, even if he did leave only after the first half.

When the "party" had begun, The Fuhrer was all smiles and laughter to see the large room filled with all the guests he'd invited. When he entered, everyone stood and saluted the man in perfect union. Ed was besides Mustang and the rest of his crew, with Hughes not that far, and Armstrong on the other side of the room (Thank _God. _That poor shirt looks like it can barely contain that abnormal chest of his!)

The Fuhrer started by formally thanking everyone for attending by raising a glass of wine in the air, while everyone followed suit. Ed, however, was given bitter apple cider instead. But he didn't mind, he'd prefer not to drink that _poison_ anyways.

After all the proper greetings were said, Bradley said in his rough yet smooth voice, "Welcome, friends! It does me great honor to have you all here. But, before we begin with our feast and celebration, there is a matter I would like to discuss."

His voice went a little low this time, "It seems that a few days ago, some few people, we are unsure of who they might be, had entered the Military parking lot and damaged _my_ new car."

Around Ed, he could feel an aura of uneasiness sweep around him and he felt everyone shrink back slightly.

Bradley continued, "Now I'm not sure of the damage was done as a spontaneous, ignorant crime or that they were trying to prove a point, but I can assure you that –" His voice lowered even more, "—I am very upset by this."

Fuery, Jean, Breda, Falman, Mustang and Ed all bowed their heads lightly, as if that would make them appear innocent.

"I loved that car," Bradley was saying.

They began to sweat considerably.

"When I saw how beaten it was, I was – _infuriated."_

Fuery choked on his fright and everyone began to shake with nervousness.

"I have decided that I will not _rest, _I will not _eat _until the culprit or culprits are found."

Breda bit his lip, Falman wiped his sweaty palms on his pants sleeve, Mustang thought of happy thoughts, Havoc's hands were itching for a cigarette, Fuery looked as if he was about to break down and Ed's eyes were desperately trying to avoid eye contact with the Fuhrer.

"And once I find them…"

They swallowed hard.

"They will receive the worse punishment I can bestow."

At that moment, they all wished they were either dead or dead.

The room was heavy with silence. A portion of the people were wondering _who would do such a insensible thing?_ While others sent a silent prayer of pity to those poor souls who would ultimately die too soon.

Bradley's eyes were ice cold as he stared at his soldiers, trying to determine the criminal just by their behavior, but then he suddenly gave out a roar of laughter and howled, "Ha! I was just kidding there, everyone! I don't really mind; I had just found out that my wife was getting me an even _better _car for Christmas so it all turned out well in the end. Ha, Ha! Enjoy the banquet, everyone, and happy holidays to you all!"

Ed stared at the elder while Mustang held his chest and gasped, "Oh – thank GOD! I thought that would be the end of me!"

"I need a drink _now_," Havoc muttered, making his way to the tables, Falman and Breda following his pace. Fuery looked as if he was about to pass out so Hawkeye guided him outside to get some air.

"Can I go home now?" Ed whined.

"No," Mustang said. "You will stay, just like the rest of us."

"But _why?" _Ed stretched out the last word. Maybe being annoying might persuade him.

"No." Mustang said, turning around.

Ed wrinkled his nose at the man's retreating back and sat down heatedly on one of the chairs.

Well, this was stupid.

What the hell did Mustang expect him to do all night?

Stare at everyone?

A voice boomed from behind him suddenly: "Edward Elric! Why, I had no idea I'd see you here, lad! Such a joyous event this is, indeed, don't you agree?"

Ed groaned and buried his head in his hands, "Go away, Major. I'm busy being miserable."

Big beefy hands clamped down on his shoulders, jolting him, "How can you be in such a foul mood during this blissful occasion. This is the time of celebrating and exquisite fun to share with the people of whom you treasure!"

"There's nothing fun about watching a bunch of grown men get drunk and make fools of themselves."

"Oh, quite the contrary, lad!" Armstrong thundered. "The effects of liquor on people are always an amusement to those around them! You must learn to bask in its fruitfulness and enjoy the humiliation of others!"

Ed took second to comprehend what the large man had said and asked, "Wait, is that what you do here? You don't get drunk, nothing?"

Armstrong grunted, "Such a foolish activity! We, The Armstrong Family, have been the audience of people's follies for generations! Why, my great-great-grandfather had created a brewery of some of the strongest nip just so he can watch his accomplices destroy their dignities!"

When Ed didn't look convinced at the man's idea of fun, he said, "Just you wait, Edward Elric. The moment that clock strikes midnight, all your boredoms shall be relieved! Mark my words!"

Ed waved him off nonchalantly, "Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever you say … you crazy nutjob."

So Ed sat in his dullness and watched everyone go about. It seemed he wasn't the only person who had found this party to be gloomy because he spotted dozens of people just sitting by idly and looking down at their drinks.

When the clock struck twelve exactly, the Fuhrer's head jerked up. Ed watched as Bradley whispered something to his companion and then slipped out the door. Ed wasn't the only person who caught this; everyone was watching the man in charge of their country leave the building with perfect accuracy. When the sound of door's shutting and engines roaring faded away, a large sigh of relief was heard coming from everybody.

Then, in a split second, everyone (even a handful of the women) stripped off their uniform jackets and let the casual clothing that they had been wearing underneath flutter in the breeze.

Laughing was heard all around and suddenly, everyone was in a jolly good mood. Drinks were being poured down their throats as if it were life support and glasses were heard being _clanked_ and cries of "CHEERS!" were everywhere.

That's when Ed realized that it was no longer a military party. It was a military pub.

He also realized that, yes, Armstrong was actually right. Watching these idiots _was _fun.

It wasn't until about half an hour later that things became considerately strange.

The first person who got noticeably drunk was Havoc. He had about three cups of muddy looking beer and his smiles were already lopsided. He was sitting alone at a table, laughing at other people as they walked passed him, when he noticed Falman walking by and his smile melted.

"F – Falman!" He hiccupped, waving his arm around like he was trying to swat a fly.

Vato, who himself was obviously intoxicated by the way he walked, perked up at the sound of his name being called and found Havoc calling him over.

He wobbled his way over, tripping on his feet a few times, before he stood in front of the blonde and grunted, "What do you want?"

"Sit down – we need to talk."

So Falman sat down, although there was nothing to be sat _on _so the man just fell on his bottom painfully and looked up. "I coulda sworn there wazza chair there…" he slurred.

"Shh, shh," Havoc hushed. "I gotta t – tell you something."

"What?"

"I—I'm sorry, man. Sorry. I was such a mean j – jerk to you all week 'cause of that thing that happened." He sniffed. "But I want you to know that I love you. Okay – hey – I love you."

Falman frowned and turned his head, "…you hurt my feelings, y'know."

"I know!" Havoc cried, his eyes brimming red from either the toxic or the oncoming tears. "I'm really _really _sorry! I w – want you to know that I would never let anything – not even a deer – ever come between our friendship! What we have – it's special, y'know?"

"You really mean that?"

"Y—yes! I love you, Falman." Jean wailed, tears streaming down his face.

Falman's lip trembled, "I l-love you, too!"

The two men stood and embraced each other lovingly, Havoc all the while sobbing on Falman's shoulder. "You know what," Jean said, his voice muffled by the warrant officer's shoulder. "I never did like Suzie. She was a bitch."

Falman chuckled. "She was!"

They hugged again tearfully and walked over to the table to get more drinks, Falman falling over a few times and Jean suddenly hysterically laughing at the man's lack of balance.

Ten minutes after the new renounced friends had wobbled out of view, Ed felt somebody … _caressing _his hair. He spun around quickly and was met with Fuery's glassy eyes.

Kain smiled, "Hello." He continued petting Ed's hair like it was the coat of a new puppy.

"Fuery. What are you doing?" Ed asked, trying to swat the man's hand away but he still continued to stroke it anyways.

"You have such soft hair … did you know that?" He slurred, truly amazed by this. "How – how do you get it to be so fluffy?"

Yeah, he was definitely drunk, Ed concluded, gently grabbing a hold of the other's hand and putting it on his head, "How about you just touch your hair? See, its soft, too."

Fuery stroked his jet black hair and frowned. He looked like he was about to cry, "S'not as soft as yours." He reached over, "Can I touch it some more…?"

Ed was about to slap away his hand when another hand grabbed it, "Now, now, Fuery. What did we say about touching other people?"

The man smiled, "Colonel, you have t'best hair. Can I …?"

"No," Mustang said. "Now why don't you go over there with the others?"

He pouted but obeyed, but first he cupped Ed's face and pinched his nose – then walked away.

The Colonel laughed at the kid's bewildered face, "I warned you, didn't I? Also, like I said before, watch out for Breda."

Ed followed Mustang's pointed finger and watched as Breda was walking lopsidedly and ultimately bumped into a poor sap. "WHY ARE YOU IN MY WAY?" Breda yelled, punching the soldier in face quite abruptly.

Ed flinched when the man's body collapsed on the ground besides Breda's feet with a large _thud. _He turned away from that scene and looked at the Colonel skeptically.

"Aren't you forgetting to mention a certain _someone_ …?" Ed trailed off.

Roy hummed thoughtfully, "Hmm. Oh, you're talking about Hughes? Don't worry, he a heavy drinker; he knows how to handle his drinks."

Ed rolled his eyes, "Not _him. _I'm talking about –"

"Hawkeye? Nah, she rarely ever gets drunk. I don't think I'd want to see what she becomes when _she _drinks…"

"I'm talking about you, dumbass!" Ed snapped irritably.

"Me?" He scoffed. "I'm a man of high status, Fullmetal. I know when I've had my limits, so I keep my performance under control."

"Uh-huh," Ed muttered, watching Mustang chase after a lady officer who had just strode by. "I'm sure…"

Hughes suddenly arrived and looped his arm around Ed's. "Wait an hour or two, that's when Mustang _really_ gets hammered," He chuckled. Then the man steered him over to some of his coworkers and introduced them to the Fullmetal Alchemist. Ed wished he hadn't. Their looks of amazement at how _tiny _he was _really _pissed him off.

An hour of mindless chatter passed and Ed grew excessively tired. And bored. These people talked about the most boring things – sober or drunk. He actually was planning on leaving (a snow storm was brewing in the dawn and he wanted to avoid it, badly) but when he reached the door, those damn beefy arms grabbed his shoulders again.

"And where do you think _you're_ going, Edward Elric!" Armstrong cried, turning the boy around to face him.

"Uh…Home?"

"Nonsense!" He exclaimed loudly. "You haven't basked in the marvels of this party yet! You would have to be mad leave such boisterous event!"

"But I'm _tired," _Ed whined.

"Rubbish! A youth such as yourself should have no reason to be tired! Why, you're at the prime of your age! You should be bouncing with energy!"

Ed groaned, "It's almost two in the morning, Major. No sane person bounces with energy this late."

To further prove his point, Ed pointed at Havoc, who was purposely aggravating Breda and allowing the angry man to chase him around while he erupted in a hysterical laughing fit. "See, insane."

"You shall stay! I will see it to it personally that you remain here, and I will dedicate my life to accomplish my mission!" He cried, pushing Ed opposite the door and back into the Mess Hall. Ed groaned.

The Major finally let him be (But Ed could have sworn that he saw Armstrong watching him like a hawk every time he turned around…) and so Ed sat next to the table of refreshments and treats and sighed. Well, since he _was _here, he _should _enjoy some of this free food. He poured himself a cup of eggnog and served himself some brownies. He really liked brownies, especially the extra fudgy ones.

Time passed and he found himself _really _enjoying the eggnog – he's had about three cups of that thing! Must be some kind of secret ingredient that they put in it to make it so good, he mused. That's when Hawkeye approached him, this being the only other time he's seen her since the start of the party.

She reached over to grab herself some food when she met Ed's eyes and frowned considerably. She looked at the cup at his hand and _tsked _in disapproval, swiping it away from him.

"Who let you drink this?" She asked sternly.

"Me."

Her eyes narrowed and Ed got nervous, confused at why she was angry at him. "What? I was thirsty!"

Her eyes lowered even deeper, "You were thirsty so you decided to drink _this?"_

"It's just eggs, jeez," Ed said, scowling. "What do you have against eggnog, anyway?"

Riza opened her mouth to say something, but Falman and Jean chose that time to come, Falman looking more dazed than previously. Jean looked at the container of eggnog, Ed's empty cup and snickered wildly. He ruffled the boy's hair and garbled, "Aww! Eddy's grow'n up!"

Ed slapped his hand off his head, "What the hell are you talking about?"

But he was ignored. Jean yelled, "C – Colonel! Come, come here! No, shut up, come here! Hehe, just c – come!"

From the other side, Mustang made his way over to the four, and ignored Falman's swaying. "What do you want?"

"Look!" Jean giggled, pointing at an irritated Ed.

Roy didn't get it, so Riza supplied, "Edward drank the eggnog, sir."

"Oh … _Oh! _Ha – ha!" He snorted. "You rebel!"

Ed was truly frustrated. "Why are you all making such a big deal about this? It's just eggnog!"

Falman picked himself up, "That's an eggnog _martini_, Ed. Alcohol based; you weren't supposed to drink that." Then he fell back on the floor.

Ed gaped. "I drank _alcohol?" _

"Congrats." Jean saluted.

"You're welcome," Mustang grumbled.

"This is _not _a g – good thing," Ed hiccupped mid-sentence. "I'm a minor!"

"I was fifteen when I had my first sip," Mustang said.

"Thirteen," Jean quipped, then looked at his fingers. "No – wait. Twelve. No, eleven. No, it was four. Yeah."

"Fourteen," Riza shrugged. Mustang stared at her as if she just stole his trophy.

She shrugged, "I party hard, sir."

From the floor, Falman laughed out loud.

"You guys aren't listing to me!" Ed cried miserably. "This is serious!"

"I don't see why you're overreacting about this," Mustang muttered, pouring himself a cup of the tinged eggnog. "I thought kids your age are usually ecstatic when they're allowed some liquor."

"There's n – nothing to be ecstatic about!" Ed moaned. "Do you realize how many of my brain cells just disintegrated because of this? I'm losing my knowledge here!"

Falman lifted his head, "Nerd…"

"Dork," Jean laughed.

"Loser," Roy sang

"Oh, you people are hopeless!" Ed glowered. "Now what the hell am I going to do?"

"Perhaps stop complaining and enjoy the party?" Mustang suggested. He offered him his cup, "Brighten up, will ya?"

Ed wrinkled his nose and pushed the drink away, "Are you insane? Are you _trying _to kill me, here?"

"Sir, please don't offer a minor alcohol," Riza sighed, steering her boss away. "Come along, now, Colonel, before you start peer pressuring him into taking drugs."

"Sixteen!" Jean shouted. "I was definitely sixty-twenty four!"

Ed rolled his eyes and slumped in his seat, rubbing his now throbbing head and controlling his hiccups. How do people enjoy this feeling? _Drunk? _He felt absolutely wretched.

He watched with lazy eyes as everyone chattered about and ran around. For some strange reason, he had the strongest urge to talk to someone. To just talk or something … about anything.

What a weird feeling.

He hated it.

He choked on his laughter when he saw Breda jump on someone because they took the last piece of cake. "THERE ARE OTHER PEOPLE WHO WANT TO EAT, YOU SELFISH ASS!"

Mustang came back, "You look pretty out of it."

Ed lolled his head and groaned, "You're back already?"

"Already? I've been gone for more than twenty minutes."

"Oh," Ed mumbled. "Damn, I _am_ out of it."

Mustang smirked, "I always knew you would never be able to hold down your drinks – considering your size and all."

"WHO ARE _YOU _CALLING SO SMALL THEY CANT HANDLE THEIR ALCOHOL!" Ed shouted, then hiccupped. He sat back down and crossed his arms, "You aren't one to talk. You're the one who's too _scared _to even drink."

Roy frowned, "I drank."

"Yeah, like one cup. I had three and I'm perfectly fine." Ed was actually a little appalled with himself – him, bragging about how much of that poisonous liquid he's drunk? Never! But he'd continue, because the look on the Colonel's face was just too funny. "I bet you're worse than Havoc over there."

Havoc chose that moment to yell, "OH MY GOD! YOU LOOK LIKE RAINBOWS, FUERY!"

"Is that an actual bet, Fullmetal?"

"Perhaps."

"Pretty brave of you to conduct another gamble when you can't even finish the first one."

Ed scoffed. "Trust me. _That _bet will be over before Christmas, and I'll give you your slap as a present. No, but _this _bet will be done by the end of the party."

Roy smirked. "Well then, what did you have in mind?"

"A drinking contest. First person to fall over loses."

"Just fall over?"

"Yup."

"Unconscious?"

"You don't have to be. First person to just all off the chair loses. Simple."

Mustang nodded. "Okay. What's at stake?"

"Loser has to …" he looked around and smirked, "bump into Breda on purpose."

Mustang looked over to the red-head, right when he smashed a bottle of champagne over someone's head for asking him what time it was. "Risky … but deal."

They shook on it and poured their cups filled with eggnog. People must have heard their conversation because they began to gather around the table, eagerly trying to watch and see who would win. Hawkeye, Jean and Hughes (Falman fell down some stairs – he'll be back up in a few seconds) all gathered as well. Jean was grinning widely, Hughes shook his disapprovingly and Riza looked as if she wanted to shoot Mustang.

In the face.

With a shotgun.

He was definitely a bad influence on _anyone_.

The cups were filled with that yellow – white cream colored semi liquid and each contestant held their cups up. Ed looked at his cup and began to have second thoughts. _This will definitely ruin my heart and kill my esophagus._ Ed groaned inwardly.

"Ready?" Mustang asked, holding his cup up to his mouth.

Ed nodded, mumbled, "Sorry, liver," and they both swallowed their drinks quickly. Eggnog spilled from the corners of their mouths but they disregarded and poured themselves a second cup.

Then a third

Then a fourth…

"This is definitely not healthy…for either of them," Riza mumbled.

Ed almost dropped his cup when he hiccupped. " Tastes ke'milk…" He grimaced.

Mustang burped, "It _is _milk, Metalfull.

He stuck out his tongue in disgust, "Eww…th'stupid."

"You're 'tupid."

"You're ugly."

Mustang almost chocked on his drink, "Noo…no, I'm pretty…" He looked to Hawkeye, "Rights m'pretty?"

"You're beautiful, sir."

"Ha! In y'face!" Mustang laughed, chugging the drink blissfully.

"She's lying," Ed said, trying to finish his fourth cup. But then, it felt like his cup weighed two tons, and he tipped over sideways and fell face first.

Mustang woozily stood up and raised his cup, "Ha! I'ma winner! Must'g is the winner!" He pointed at Edward, who was struggling to stand up, "Ha ha, you're a LOSER!"

Ed was back on his wobbly feet and pouted when Mustang said, "Now y'go. Go to Breda, loser."

Ed looked at Breda, who just swallowed some sort of colorful alcoholic drink, and gulped, "N-no…"

" T' bad, loser!" He pushed Ed's back towards Breda. "Go, go, go, go, go."

"Fine!" Ed snapped. He straightened himself (which didn't really work out because he just slouched over afterwards) and marched towards the redhead. Mustang hung back with the rest of the crowd and watched, giggling, "This s'gonna be so funny!"

Ed took in a deep breath and walked over to Breda and swallowed before he shoved his shoulder onto the big man's back, pushing him forward a little. Breda turned around quickly and his face reddened considerably, "WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING, BRAT!"

Ed wanted to cry . Because at that moment, Breda had picked him up from where he stood by the waist, and threw him into the large garbage can that lay nearby. Ed was thrown in head first, and he didn't even want to know what that mushy stuff was that he landed on.

He could hear Mustang howling, "Ha! Ha! Did'ya see? Jus' like that sport wit' the basket and ball! Ha! Touchdown!"

Ed growled and waited until his vision stopped tripling everything to poke his head out from the garbage can. He glared at Mustang, who clumsily made his way towards him while everyone else scattered about.

"Why so down n'the dump—s—s," Mustang began, but apparently found his joke to be much more hilarious than he thought and laughed the rest of it.

Ed however, did not find it funny at all. "Y'such a dork," he slurred at Mustang, trying to get out of the garbage but tipping it over while in it and ungracefully falling all together.

"M' not a dork, m'a winner." Mustang assured him.

"Dork," Ed said, finally escaping the deathtrap that was the garbage can. He used Mustang as leverage and finally stood up. "I bet'chu I can make y'say, 'I'ma dork' but the end of the minute."

"Deal!" Mustang said quickly, smirking at his oncoming victory.

A few seconds passed when Ed suddenly asked, "Wai – what was t'bet 'gain?"

"If y'make me say, 'I'm a dork' after a minu –" He stopped when Ed grinned and he groaned loudly, "Ah, crap! I said it! Y'so clever, y'know?"

"I know," Ed said, catching himself from falling over again. "Stupid gravity," he mumbled.

"I bet you," Mustang began. "That y'can't walk backwards."

"I can! I'm t'master at backwards walk'n!"

"Liar," Mustang said in singsong.

To prove himself, Ed took one step back and tripped over the fallen garbage can, and landed inelegantly on his behind.

Mustang roared with laughter, "Y'so stupid!"

"Shut up!" Ed snapped. "Ok. I have a big bet fo' you, but I dun think you can handle it."

"I can."

"Nah…You can't."

"I can! I _can!"_

"Shh! Okay!" Ed beckoned Mustang to come closer. "I bet'y can't kiss Hawk'ye."

Roy pulled away quickly with an appalled face, "She'll eat me, though!"

"Told'y y'cant handle it."

"I can! But … I'm scared."

"Do it!" Ed pushed.

"No." Mustang muttered. "I dun want to die. I have so much t'live for…"

"Go!" Ed hissed. "C'mon! She went outside! No one'll see you die, so go!"

Mustang watched as the door closed behind Riza and he swallowed hard. "Wha' happenes if I win?"

Ed looked up in thought and said, "Hmm…I'll give you my arm." He pointed to his automail and Mustang beamed, "Really?"

"Yup."

"Cool!" He cried, already thinking of all the (impossible) things he could do with a metallic prostatic arm. He cleared his throat and slurred, "Im'a go."

"Good." Ed nodded. "Don't die, though."

Mustang moaned in pain and walked towards the door. Ed watched as he hesitated to open the door, but eventually, he opened it and stalked out. Ed hurriedly called for Jean and whispered, "Wanna watch Must'g die w'me?"

Jean stared at him for a second than nodded vigorously, "Yeah! Yeah!" So the two ran clumsily to the window and peeked out as Mustang approached Hawkeye.

Riza Hawkeye had her back turned to her boss but she could tell that he was behind her. She felt him tap her should shyly and she sighed, "Sir. I know you're drunk, so please don't do anything stupid that may lead me to shooting you."

When she turned around to face him, Roy looked shocked, "Whaa? No! I would never!"

His dictation was horrible as he tried to talk as if he wasn't wasted out of his mind and Riza sighed again, this time even louder, "Have you made a bet with someone again?"

"No."

"Colonel…"

"…Maybe."

She tapped her foot, "And do you remember what happened the last time you included me in one of those wagers?"

He shook his head, "But I rem'mber you gave m' a ouchie."

"So you learned your lesson?"

"No."

"Of course," she sighed, _again._ The Colonel: Drunk equals The Colonel: Child.

"Lieut'nt," he mumbled shyly. "Can I give you a pres'nt?"

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, "That depends on what the present is…"

"You hafta close your first."

"I'd rather not."

He frowned and looked at his feet disappointedly. Riza pitied him for a second and considered submitting to what he wanted but then that consideration soon vanished when a hand full of snow was pushed at her face.

She jumped at the sudden cold that _froze _her face and when she opened her mouth to sternly call out the man, Mustang quickly leaned over and gave Hawkeye a long peck on the lips.

When he leaned back, he had some loose crumbs of snow hanging on his lips but he disregarded it and smiled, "Ha! I win again!"

Then he collapsed on the floor, unconscious and done for the night (which was now morning).

Hawkeye could hear Jean's cheering coming from inside the building, and Ed's loud complaints on his now lost arm.

Oh, so Mustang wagered Ed's arm this time? Last year, he made the same bet with Jean, gambling Havoc's car. The year before, it was Breda's house. The year before _that _it was Falman's entire savings account (_entire)._

And every year, he would always manage to win.

And every year, he would always forget the next morning of his victory.

Riza Hawkeye was always the only sober one at the party, so she was the _only _one who remembers exactly what happened. But she never told anyone. She kept those memories to herself.

**((UNEDITED))**

**((I'm not much of a romance writer, so this is the best I've got. AND yes, I apologize because yesterday I haven't updated! I had a fever and, honestly, I don't really remember what happened yesterday, it was a bit hazy. But one day, there will be two chapter updates because there are three chapters left! Hope You enjoyed, and Happy Hanukkah to all my Jewish readers!)) **

**NEXT CHAPTER****:** _Characters: __Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye, Jean Havoc, Vato Falman, Kain Fuery, Heymans Breda, Hughes Family_


	10. The Tenth Day

**The Twelve Days of Disaster**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I own nothing on this site except for my imaginations

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><p><em><strong>The Tenth Day<strong>_

_**[CHRISTMAS EVE EVE]**_

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><p><strong>Characters:<strong> Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye, Jean Havoc, Vato Falman, Kain Fuery, Heymans Breda, Hughes Family

**Summary: **It's that time of year again … time for the Christmas card picture!

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><p>The Hughes' house was <em>packed. <em>People were cramped in his small living room and all looked quite uncomfortable, but that was understandable; this room wasn't meant to hold _this _many people. The kitchen and dining room, however, was plenty big to hold this number of people.

But Maes would _kill_ himself if he ever let _these _people into the rooms that held the fine china and the food. These _disaster-starting_ 'people'.

There were only two couches in the living room. Breda and Fuery sat on one, and Havoc, Falman and Ed sat on the bigger one. Alphonse stood next to his older brother, and Riza and Mustang stood across, leaning against the wall.

Nobody knew why, but Hawkeye looked _very _upset with Mustang. Not that she wasn't always upset with him, but today, looked _extremely _upset.

It probably had something to do with the work party yesterday. It usually always does.

Hawkeye had said that yesterday, Mustang managed – in his drunk state – to get her with a snowball, officially removing her from the game and leaving Ed and Roy as the remaining contestants.

But that can't be the only reason why she's mad…

It was better, though, not to push the topic.

Hughes had a faint idea as to why Hawkeye was pissed, but he kept it to himself. He _was_ perhaps the only other person besides the Lieutenant who wasn't hammered out of their minds yesterday.

For, perhaps, the fourth time since he had come in, Ed held his head and groaned miserably. "Ow…" He moaned as he massaged his temples. "I am _never _drinking. _Ever."_

Everybody else seemed to have the same idea. Breda, Fuery, Falman, Havoc and Mustang all feel as if their heads have been plowed by a truck. And yet, they had no recollection of what happened the other night, just remember drinking and _drinking._

Breda, like every year, woke up to find his knuckles caked with dry blood and bruised and that most of the staff have steered away from him.

Falman and Havoc both had woken with a migraine of a headache and when they came across each other, they realized that their ill feelings towards the other had vanished. Whatever happened yesterday has brought the two back together as friends.

When Fuery walked into the office that morning, he had been a little uncomfortable to find everyone staring at him strangely.

Ed woke up with his breath stinking of eggs and a _very, very _upset Al. Ed had tried to convince him that it wasn't his fault that he drank, that it was the Colonel's but Al would have none of that. As his punishment, Ed was to suffer his hangover without any aspirin.

Mustang woke up feeling victorious. He was used to hangovers by now, so the headache did nothing to ruin his triumph of whatever he had won. When he went to the office, however, the look Hawkeye shot him instantly destroyed that feeling. She had told him about how she was eliminated from the game by his hands, but for some reason, he felt like she wasn't telling him something.

Anyways, everyone was now patiently sitting in the Hughes' living room. Well, not everyone. See, that was the reason why everyone was just sitting (with the exception of those standing). They were waiting for the remaining person to arrive.

And Hughes had yet to announce who it was.

Mustang had a faint idea on who the person was, but the hangover he suffered was interfering with his acute memory.

So they sat in deafening silence. Everyone tackling their own painful hangover. Just one sound would send them into a minute of agony.

Then, there was a sound: _Knock, knock, knock._

A chorus of groans echoed the room, "Ughhhhhhhh…."

But nobody got up to answer the door, they just cradled their heads in misery. Al and Riza stood amused at their actions.

_Knock, knock, knock_

"Ughhhhhhh!"

_Knock, knock, knock_

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SOMEBODY ANSWER THE DOOR!" Mustang shouted over everybody else's groans of pain.

Maes' head poked out from behind the kitchen door, "Someone's on the door? I'll get it! I'll get it!"

He darted past everybody and opened the door swiftly. On the other side, was a beefy man with a bushy, black beard. He had a small, green hate on and thick glasses. In his hand, he held a long, brown briefcase.

He tipped his hat at Maes, "Afternoon, sir."

Hughes quickly shook hands with the plump man and led him inside his home, shouting, "Gracia! Elicia! He's here! Come down!"

"Ughh!" The men of the living room groaned. "Don't be so damn loud," Breda complained.

"Ah, yes! Guys, I want you all to meet," He gestured to the fat man, "Mr. Vandum."

"Vadum Qualiquerine Humpeding," The man said, bowing his head as a salutation.

"Hello."

"Hi…"

"Hey."

"Eh…"

The others just grunted a hello and slouched further into the couch. Gracia and Elicia walked in at that moment and Hughes beamed, "Great! Everyone's here, now we can officially start!"

Mustang was the first one to ask what was one everybody's mind, "Start what, exactly?"

Hughes ignored him, "Mr. Vandum, allow me to introduce to you," he gestured to the two who had just entered, "My beautiful wife, Gracia and my _adorable _daughter, Elicia!"

Then he turned to his guests, "Over there is Vato Falman, Jean Havoc, Edward and Alphonse Elric," the three on the couch just waved aimlessly at the man and Al kindly bowed, "And over there is Heymans Breda and Kain Fuery," Breda grunted a hello and Kain wasn't paying attention, "And right there is Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye," their hello's were quiet and uncaring.

Vandum smiled at them and set his briefcase down, "Well then, shall we begin?"

"Begin what…?" Ed asked skeptically.

Hughes coughed, "Er…well…you see, Mr. Vandum is the … ah … photographer we hired." He paused and said quickly, "for the Christmas cards we're all going to take."

There was silence before everyone erupted and began screaming their objections of outrage.

"Pictures! Pictures? No! That was _not _part of the deal!"

"I am _not _taking a picture! Are you ser—"

"—That's it! I'm leaving!"

Hughes scrambled to the door, took out a key, and locked the front door shut, then slipped the key protectively in his pocket and smiled slyly as if he just got away from committed a huge crime. "Now, now, guys…Let's all just relax…"

"You do realize I can just transmute that, right?" Ed said. Hughes frowned, "You wouldn't…"

"I will burn that door down, Maes," Mustang snapped. "I will _not _go through this _again."_

Hughes' shoulders sagged, "Come on. Don't be like that!" He snapped his fingers eagerly, "I know! How about I give you all your presents early? Would that make you all happier?"

Everybody was silent at the mention of presents.

"We get our presents before Christmas? Really?" Al asked eagerly. All the others seemed to have the same idea and beamed at the very thought.

"Of course!" Hughes said. He made his way to the large Christmas tree and began throwing each person their own beautifully wrapped boxes with a lovely red bow on top. He even passed one to Elicia and Gracia and one to himself.

_R-i-i-i-p! _They all tore the wrapping paper off without admiring the time that it probably took to put it all together and the smiles that arrived when they caught their presents melted when they saw _what _it was.

"Um…" Havoc asked hesitantly, pulling out the gift slowly. "What is this…?"

In his hand was an absurd, knitted sweater. It was green and red with the picture of a reindeer in the middle with a red puffball sticking out – _was that it's nose? _Everyone else had the same present and the same look of disgust. Al was given a scarf with the same design, and he really wished Hughes wasn't expecting him to wear it.

Hughes, however, looked ecstatic and hurriedly put the sweater on. "Isn't it great?" He grinned. "It's Christmas sweaters! Better yet, _matching_ Christmas sweaters! Now we all get to look alike when we take the picture."

Faces paled and they all looked as if they had just seen something horrendously disgusting – which they had. "I'm sorry," Falman said slowly. "But I am _not _wearing this. I can stomach taking a picture, but wearing this – this – this _thing._ I just can't."

When they all nodded in agreement, Hughes sighed and used his last resort, "It's either wear the sweater and take the picture or you're all uninvited to the dinner tomorrow!"

"You wouldn't…"

"How cruel."

"You monster!"

"How could you!"

"That's just wrong…"

Hughes firmly nodded, "That's it, guys. I am putting my foot down on this one! We are taking this picture together and we are going to _like it!"_

Mustang groaned and scratched his head, "…Damn it. All right." He turned to photographer, "I'm sorry, what was your name again?"

"Vadum Qualiquerine Humpeding" Vandum said.

"Vaccum?" Ed asked.

"Vandum."

"Wait, did you say Quarter-Queen?" Havoc said.

"Qualiquerine."

"Can you say your last name again?" Fuery asked innocently.

"Humpeding." The man answered.

Breda snorted. "Humping!"

"Hump_eding."_

Edward snickered loudly and even Fuery held in a giggle.

"Yes, yes, my name is funny," Vandum sighed. "Now, shall we begin? I'm sure you all would want this over quickly."

He gestured for everybody to stand in front of the Christmas tree, but first, had to wait while Hughes _commanded _them into wearing the sweaters. They grudgingly obeyed and pulled the _thing _on. They looked absolutely _ridiculous._

"Okay," Mr. Humpeding said, setting up the tri-pod and starting the large camera. "I want all the tall people to stand in the back and the short in the front."

Everybody began shuffling around.

"Ow! Al, watch my foot!" Fuery piped.

"Sorry!" Al said. "Um…Brother? Shouldn't you be standing in the front…?"

"What! No!" Ed snapped.

"No," The photographer mumbled. "You must stand in the front; you can't be seen in the back."

"Nobody asked you, Humping Queen Vaccum!" Ed snapped at the man.

"Fullmetal, get in the front," Mustang sighed, pushing the kid in the front, next to Elicia and Fuery, while everybody else stood behind them.

"Okay, good. Now everybody smile…" He bent over behind the flap and held the button. "Three…two…one…"

_Flash!_

The flash went off, shining the whole room and causing Fuery to double over, screaming, "Ah! My eyes! I'm blind!"

"See," Hughes said. "Now was that so hard?" He turned to the photographer, "How'd it come out?"

The man pulled out the developed photograph, shook it a few times, and looked at it, frowning, "It would have looked better if the lot of you would smile."

"I smiled!" Elicia cried, showing everybody the smile she used.

Hughes looked at the picture and scowled, "Oh, come on, guys!"

"I have a face default," Ed said. "I can't smile."

"I have nothing to smile about," Breda shrugged.

"I don't know how to smile," Riza said.

"Smiling? Never heard of it," Roy grumbled.

"_Just smile," _Hughes grinded out, making his way back. "Just say _cheese _or something, I don't care! Just smile."

"Ready?" Vandum asked, resuming his position. "Three…"

"Damn it, Fuery, move up a little!"

"…Two…"

"Stop shoving, Hughes."

"One…"

"I'm not shoving, you're shov –"

_Flash!_

The light bulb flared the picture had been taken. Vandum took it out and looked at it.

"How does it look, Humping?" Breda asked.

The photographer shot him a look and then said, "Definitely not what a Christmas card should look like."

He showed it to the rest of them and they gawked at it. The photo had caught Hughes and Mustang shoving each other, while Ed was in mid sneeze, and while Breda was pushing Fuery.

Gracia sighed, "Oh dear, perhaps one more wouldn't hurt."

"I'll have to charge you extra, though," Vandum said, setting up his camera once again. "Usually these things only take one try."

Everybody resumed their positions and stared at the lens of the camera.

"Now everybody _smile_," he instructed.

They all gave him their make shift smiles and he cringed. Some people are just better off frowning, he supposed."…Good. Now on three. Hold it….one…two…three!"

_Flash! _

They all ran to the fat man when he pulled the photograph out. They waited for the image to emerge and gasped when they saw themselves on the glossy paper. Each person had given their own smiles, one showing their teeth, one where their eyes were closed, one where their lips were pursed, and Al who just gave his helmet a tip to make it look as if he was happy.

All together, they looked like pretty happy, _normal_ people.

"Oh God! I hate it!" Fuery moaned.

"I look like a crazed, hungry rapist!" Havoc exclaimed with horror.

"I look constipated," Mustang mumbled.

"I didn't know my face could do that…" Hawkeye murmured.

"I look like a sick puppy," Falman said.

"What's wrong with my face?" Breda gasped.

"It's horrible! Burn it! _Burn it!" _Ed cried, pulling on Mustang's arm pleadingly. In one swift move, Roy pulled out his glove, snapped his fingers and watched as the photograph began to shrivel up in flames and fall apart.

"Thank God…" Breda sighed. "The evidence has been taken care of."

Hughes slapped his forehead, "_Really? _Come on, guys! That was a nice picture!"

"Are you _blind!_?" Mustang asked, astonished. "We clearly all looked horrendous and senseless. If anybody saw that photograph, we'd be locked up in an insane asylum!"

The photographer sighed loudly and said, "Okay, _one _more picture. That's all you get. I have other clients, you know, and not much film. Now everybody go back and … try to look normal."

Mustang nodded, "Yes. Everybody try to look normal. I suppose we can accomplish that."

They all took their spots and sat up erect and waited for Vandum to stand behind the camera once more.

"How the hell can we even _try _to look normal?" Edward asked, not really expecting an answer but having Mustang give him one anyways. "That's easy for you; this _is_ normal, short, height, isn't it?"

Ed fumed and Al quickly slapped a hand over his mouth and held him back before he could try and attack the Colonel. Hawkeye sighed, "Sir, we've talked about your childish antics, have we not?"

"Al, you're stepping on my foot again!" Fuery complained.

Jean sighed, "Damn, I need a cigarette."

Hughes almost jumped on him, "Not in the house! I've told you a dozen times already, Jean!"

Elicia clapped her hands and started to sing a song that she'd heard on the radio and Falman smiled, "I love that song!"

_Flash!_

Everybody stopped and looked up. Vandum was already air drying the photograph and humming his disapproval of the photo. They must not have heard him when he had counted down.

They each scrambled their way towards him and plucked the photograph from his beefy hands and gave a collective, "Ahh…" of admiration.

In the picture, frozen in the moment, was Alphonse holding his brother back while he trashed around while Hawkeye held her gun up dangerously as Mustang smirked shyly. In front, Gracia was trying to pull her husband off of Havoc while he smoked his cigarette, causing Breda to cough from the smoke. Fuery was shrinking back in fear and Falman was singing happily along with the clapping of Elicia.

Mustang smiled and tapped the photograph, "There you go; perfect! This is as normal as normal gets. I'll be expecting my card on Christmas, Hughes."

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><p><strong>((UNEDITED))<strong>

**((Well, it seems this might not be done until **_**after **_**Christmas seeing as I am being distracted by The Hunger Games book, which, might I add, is a fucking sweet book! Merry Christmas, everybody, and Happy Holidays! Just two more chapters to go!))**

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><p><strong>NEXT CHAPTER<strong>**:** _Characters: __Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye, Jean Havoc, Vato Falman, Kain Fuery, Heymans Breda, Hughes Family_


	11. The Eleventh Day

**The Twelve Days of Disaster**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I own nothing on this site except for my imaginations

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><p><em><strong>The Eleventh Day<strong>_

_**[CHRISTMAS EVE]**_

**Characters**: Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye, Jean Havoc, Vato Falman, Kain Fuery, Heymans Breda, Hughes Family

**Summary: **The Christmas Dinner has arrived! On Christmas Eve, of course.

**A/N – Well, this is late. But Oh Weell. I'm sure everybody was just as busy as I was on Christmas, so my lateness is somewhat justified (ie: please don't shoot me.). My brother had gotten me a nook and I've just been reading the Hunger Games for the past two days. I'm up to the last book and I think I just gained a new fandom. If you've never read it, YOU MUST. It's so amazingly good that words can't describe how amazingly good it is. Enough of my drabble, here's the chapter!**

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><p>The aroma of sweet, delicious food filled the quaint dining room as mouths began to slowly drool as everybody waited the much anticipated dinner.<p>

The plates were set on each side, accompanied by matching silverware and thin, glass cups. Napkins were folded neatly besides the plates and with a small bowl on top of the dishes.

Lovely arrangements were on the center of the table, enjoying all the attention they received. Hand crafted candle holders stood beside one another, holding the wax cylinder with the top burning elegantly.

The table cloth was a creamy brown that engulfed the wooden table, with small beaded ends. The room was dimly lighted, to further accent the décor, and a bowl of painted pine cones with dried flowers was set in the middle in between the candles for beautification.

All in all, the Hughes' really have outdone themselves this year.

Everything looked beautiful.

All of the intended guests were given their own seating, and they obliged to it without complaint.

The table was long and rectangular. The width only fit one chair and the height fit four chairs on each side, plus one small chair for Elicia.

Hughes sat in the one seat in the front, while Gracia was on his left and down was Fuery, Jean, and Falman. On Maes' right sat little Elicia in her chair, than Ed, Al, Breda and Riza, and on the on chair directly opposite of Maes was Mustang.

But Maes' and Gracia's seats were empty, as they were quickly making last minute decisions in the kitchen and preparing the food before bringing it out.

All the other chairs were occupied by hungry, impatient soldiers.

"So…hungry…" Jean moaned, his head resting on the table while his hands tightly gripped the fork and knife while drool slipped from the corners of his mouth. "Must…eat….going … to…die…"

Nobody said anything; they all silently agreed but retained some dignity and didn't flaunt it like Havoc did. Jean turned his head and began pounding his forehead on the table slowly, "Eat…eat…eat…eat."

His banging shook the table and made some of the silverware cackle. It was still not enough to overlap the sound of everybody's roaring stomachs.

Ed weakly turned his head to the large grandfather clock and slouched even further into his seat, and read the time. It was 6:02PM at the moment. Dinner was promised at 6:00PM sharp.

"Dammit, Hughes! You're late!" Ed groaned to the ceiling. "I'm starving over here!"

From the kitchen, the cluttering of frying pans were heard, followed by the sound of a tongue clicking in disapproval and then Hughes hallow shout of, "Almost done!"

Ed turned to the clock again. Not even a minute had passed by, but groaned miserably as if an hour had.

Mustang, sitting with his hand propping his head, tapped his finger on the table heavily. _Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap._

Hawkeye, whose eyes twitched with every tap, grated out with clenched teeth, "Stop."

Mustang ignored her and continued his rapid _tapping. _

_Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap._

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, "Stop that."

"Stop what?" Mustang asked, not stopping at all. _Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap._

"Stop _that." _ She said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "That – that _tapping."_

Mustang looked at his fingers as it pressed on the table quickly. _Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. _"Why, does it bother you?"

"Yes."

"It doesn't bother me," Mustang shrugged. "So I'll continue as I please."

_Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap._

Her grip on the knife tightened considerably. "Sir…can you _please _sit quietly and _stop that."_

"I'll stop when the food comes."

_Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap._

"You'll stop now," Riza began quietly, her jaw clenched shut. "before I cut your fingers off."

Mustang stared at her hardened eyes, raised his index finger up and banged hard on the table slowly. _TAP – TAP – TAP – TAP – TAP –TAP_

She clamped her fingers around the knife harder, her nails digging into her palm, and her whole hand began to shake wildly as she resisted the urge to cut her bosses fingers off and shove them down his throat and force him to swallow them.

"Sir," she managed out with her gritted teeth. "I'm warning you. I'm prepared to go to prison if it means _shutting _you up."

Mustang looked at her, as if _daring _her to try. _TAP – TAP –TAP –_

_SLAM!_

Hawkeye, cursing her speed, managed to stab a hole in the table rather than the Colonel's hands – the original target – thanks to his fast reflexes. He pulled away just in time, too, _unfortunately._

Mustang gaped like a fish out of water, "Damn, Lieutenant!" He cradled and coaxed his hand like it was a victim of some horrendous crime. "Are you insane?"

"No, I am hungry." She said simply, setting the knife down. "Do not tempt me when I am hungry, sir."

Mustang, at this point, when he saw a vision of him being skewered alive by his _trusty _lieutenant, really wished Hughes would reconsider this seating arrangement.

Fuery was fervently gnawing on the nip of his napkin, disregarding the stares Breda was giving him and enjoyed the sweet taste of cloth on his lips.

"What are you doing?" Breda asked, an eyebrow raised at the other's strange habit.

"Nothing," he mumbled, not liking that look Breda was giving.

"…Why are you chewing _that?"_

Fuery shrugged. He didn't really have a reason for chewing it. He just randomly started, and now he couldn't stop. It was like an addiction.

Breda licked his lips as he stared across at Fuery. "Does … does it taste good?"

He shrugged again.

"I bet it does…" Breda whispered. "I bet it tastes _real _good."

"Its…its alright." Fuery mumbled. Okay, _now _he was getting scared.

"How about you give me some of that?"

Fuery was met with the overwhelming feeling of possessiveness at that moment and pulled the napkin away from Breda's view, while still nibbling at it. "No."

"Gimme it." Breda insisted.

"No!" Fuery piped. "You have your own!"

Breda looked down at his napkin, but shook his head. It didn't look as appetizing as _his. _"No, I want yours. Gimme it before I break your skull."

Fuery squealed and ducked under the table, "Leave me alone!"

"Gimme that napkin, Fuery!" Breda roared. "I swear to God, I will bash your head at this table if you don't give it to me!"

Fuery shuddered, "Hughes! Hughes! Breda's picking on me!"

More shuffling was heard in the kitchen, and then Hughes' voice, "be nice, Breda! Or no food for you!"

Heymans made a struggling noise with his throat, but gave up and glared daggers at Fuery. The smaller man stuck out his tongue mockingly and continued his gnawing.

Havoc, who was sitting next to Fuery, cupped the top of his empty plate and brought his hands to his open mouth. He then began to chew on the air he put in his mouth and set his hands down. He continued this gesture two or three more times before Falman finally asked, "What are you doing?"

Jean looked up and smiled. "Ah, this. You see, one method I use when I'm waiting for food is that I _pretend_ that I'm eating."

"…What?"

"Yeah, see. If I pretend that I'm actually eating, the hunger actually _lessens._ See, I'm eating a nice, juicy, hamburger right now. Yum!" To prove his point, Havoc brought his hands up again, and bit down on the invisible hamburger in his hand. He set it down on his plate and rubbed his stomach, giving out a satisfying, "Ahhh…"

Falman shook his head, "I am never going out to eat with you."

There was a loud banging coming from the kitchen – most likely Hughes dropped a large, steel pot or something – and then, from the door, Maes popped out, holding a bowl in each hand.

Seven pairs of hungry, vicious eyes – excluding Elicia, who was not paying attention to anything but her sippy cup, and Al, who enjoyed everybody's pain that is starvation – followed Maes as he set down the two small bowls.

One was a bowl of pastel colored corslow, and the other was steaming asparagus. Right when the bowls touched the tables, hands shot out to grab at it. But Hughes was quicker. In a flash, he pulled out a wooden spoon and slapped each eager hand away.

"Ah, ah, ah!" Hughes sang, his hands on his hips. "Manners, please?" He turned to his daughter and asked, "Elicia, my sweet pumpkin, can you please remind everybody of the first rule?"

She pulled out the nozzle of her cup from her mouth, and delightfully said, "Rule n'mber one: No one eats 'til everybody is sitting and everything's set."

Hughes wobbled like he was about to melt and rushed over to give the girl a praiseworthy hug, "My princess! So smart! You make daddy _so _proud! With those brains, you'll definitely be a heart surgeon! I just know it! Oh, my smart, beautiful daughter! She knows _everything!_"

Nobody shared his enthusiasm.

"That's a stupid rule." Ed grumbled.

"I veto it." Hawkeye said.

"Human cruelty." Fuery whimpered.

"You'll burn in hell for that one, Hughes! I assure you!" Proclaimed Mustang.

"Seriously, give me dog food. I'll eat anything at this point if it means I don't have to wait." Breda groaned.

"Just – Just kill me." Havoc moaned miserably, cradling his head.

"It'll be over soon," Al tried to coax, but Falman shot him a look and shook head, "Don't. Just … leave him."

When Hughes began to return with even tastier dishes – a plate with sweet potatoes, one with stuffed mushrooms, another with clam chowder soup – Mustang couldn't take it.

"Alright," he began. "I will give you _each _five hundred cens if you let me get the first dish."

There was a brief pause where everybody contemplated Mustang's offer. Then, at the same time, they all replied with the same answer: "No."

"Eight hundred," Mustang tried.

"No."

"One thousand," He strained. "One thousand cens _each."_

"No."

"Oh, come on!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "What more do you people want?" That's when the perfect idea hit him, right when Maes brought in the peas and corn, "Okay, I know. I will give all of you … your Christmas presents after dinner."

Yes, that got them. All their faces were scrunched up in confusion as they considered his trump card. Minutes passed – the drinks were placed – when Ed said, "We must discuss!"

Everybody leaned forward and gathered around the table, whispering harshly at one another their opinions.

"This is risky, I still think we should consider the money…"

"No, no! This is good!"

"Yeah, I want my presents early!"

"Besides, if we get our presents early, that means we still have a day to return what we got him and get him something crappy if his present is cheap."

"Yeah, but what if his present _is _crappy? If we take the money, we'll have enough to buy ourselves something small, and completely disregard his."

"Yeah … but I really want my present early."

"Me too"

"Same!"

They pulled back and Ed nodded, "Deal. You get first dish."

Mustang flashed a winning smile and sat back in his seat in triumph. When everyone else sat back, Gracia and Hughes walked in with the main courses – the most anticipated dishes.

In Gracia's oven mitted hands was a large tray that held the perfectly cooked ham. In Hughes' hand was the golden roasted chicken, sitting in a nice, glass platter, and surrounded by squeezed lemons and cooked tomatoes for extra flavoring.

'_Ohh…' _Mustang mused inwardly, watching the roasted chicken. _'So it _wasn't _an alien… Could have fooled me…'_

They set the trays on the table neatly, poured everybody a nice glass of their favored drinks, cleaned their large, steel knives with a napkin and began to cut the meat. Gracia was finished first with the ham and was the first to ask, "Who wants first?"

Grudgingly, everyone pointed at the smirking Mustang. He offered his plate and filled it with a spoonful of _everything. _

Finally, when he was done and satisfied with hogging all the food, the others' plates were being served and the dishes were being filled with exquisite foods.

One by one, everyone was allowed as much as their plates can fit, and when all that was left of the chicken was the empty lemons, and all that was left of the ham was the gravy, everybody was set.

The moment Gracia and Hughes sat down, food _flew. _Manners were thrown out the window and everybody ate as if it were their last meal.

Ed completely ignored the knife and fork and held the sliced ham in one hand, and a piece of chicken in the other, and _devoured them at the same time. _Al watched his brother, and if he could, he would have been sweating nervously at how Elicia was mimicking his eating habits.

Breda was like a vacuum. Somehow, without any utensils, all the peas and corns were gone. They just vanished from his plate. One moment they were there, and the next, gone.

Riza started with her soup, but she engulfed it whole in less than five spoons.

Mustang was eating so fast, his plate was a blur.

Fuery already had his whole mouth – more like the bottom half of his face – covered in gravy. His fingers were concealed in the same sauce, and he wiped it on his clothes without any concern.

Havoc was swallowing too fast for his own good, and chocked about three times while he ate, miraculously saving his own life by pounding on his chest.

Falman wasn't looking while he ate. He simply scooped up all the food in his plate and shoved it in his mouth. He could be eating slugs and not notice that it was slugs.

Gracia and Hughes ate in their regular paces and watched the others as they "ate". This was normal. This was as normal as it can get. Food flying everywhere: normal. Food splattered on everybody's shirts and faces: normal. People eating as if they hadn't eating in sixty years: normal.

At some points, Hughes would whip out his camera and take pictures of everyone while they were distracted by food and oblivious to his actions. Then he would continue with his own food.

Even when their plates were empty, it still wasn't over. No matter how much they eat, they _always, always, always _have room for seconds.

The worst part was, sometimes there wasn't enough to give everyone second helpings, and that would spark _war. _

For instance, at the moment, there was one stuffed mushroom left. _Everybody_ wanted it.

It was quite while they all stared at it inventively, just _daring _someone to try and take it. Then, hesitantly, Fuery reached out his hand to grab it, and Ed growled at him like an rabid dog, "Don't. You. Even. _Try. _It's mine!_"_

Falman got up quickly, kicking his chair back, "I saw it first!"

Breda slammed his fork down, "I will eat your hand if you touch it!"

Havoc turned at him and poised his knife like a sword at the red head, "Try it. I will destroy you."

"If anybody touches that mushroom, I will cremate them here and _now_," Mustang hissed.

Hawkeye loaded her gun and glared at everyone, "A bullet hole in the head for the hand that touches it."

And then, as if on cue, everyone _pounced _at the lone dish; scrambling their bodies over the table. Their arms were extended as their hands blindly felt for the food. Plates were knocked over and drinks were spilt in the process. Hughes silently thanked Gracia for recommending plastic plates and removing the rugs.

Finally, they all pulled back and gobbled the pieces of the mushroom that they were able to retrieve. The poor thing was massacred and pulled apart, leaving nothing at all. This continued with the last baked potato, the last bits of salad, and the last spoonful of soup (that one was _very _messy) until there was absolutely not one drop of anything edible left on the table.

They all sat back and unbuckled their belts, letting their bellies free. Dinner had lasted about fifteen minutes. A new record, Hughes noted.

"That was _good._"

"I'm stuffed…"

"I'll never eat again."

"I'm set for life."

"I can survive without food for years now."

"If I eat one more thing, I think I might explode."

"Please don't talk about food; I think I might burst."

"Can't … get up …"

Gracia suddenly stood up and clapped her hands joyfully, "Alright, then! Who wants dessert?"

Hands shot up like rockets and screams of "Me! Me! Me!" blasted around the table.

She smiled at their eagerness and beckoned Hughes to help her with clearing up the table. Once the table was cleared, the couple began coming in with a different colored trays in each hand. When they were set, everybody got a clear view on what was on the menu for dessert.

There was fruit cake, cheesecake, red velvet cake and chocolate mousse cake.

It was heaven, put in simpler terms.

Hughes never questioned how it was physically impossible for these people to be able to _still _eat. They each took a slice of _each _cake and didn't even leave a crumb on their plate.

Literally.

They _licked _the plate clean. Savages.

But it was normal. It was as normal as it can possibly get. The cakes were gone. Any hopes of saving some for another night vanished when Hughes set them down on the table.

Or, as he referred to the table as instead, "No-Man's-Zone."

As Gracia began clearing the table once more (dessert lasted fifteen minutes as well, another new record!) Jean lightly hit his glass cup with his fork, creating a sweet _Ding, ding, ding! _noise that grabbed everybody's attention.

All eyes on him, Jean stood up, cleared his throat, and gestured to Mustang, saying, "Colonel, I believe you have a gift for all of us?"

Greedy eyes all locked onto Mustang and he sighed, "Yes, yes. I know." He stood up, mumbling a few things about greedy vultures, and made for the door.

Hawkeye stood up, "If you plan on escaping, you'll leave me no choice but to shoot both your knees."

Mustang winced, but waved her off, "Escape? Psh! I'm just going to go get the presents! I left them in my car, see?" He walked outside and towards the car that his friend lent him and began digging in the trunk.

"Oh, I wonder what he got us!" Al said excitedly.

"Don't get excited," Breda grumbled. "Last year he just got us shoe polishers."

"The year before that, he got our uniforms dry cleaned," Jean mumbled.

Mustang chose that moment to walk back in with a large grin on his face and a handful of envelopes, "Here we are!"

He made his way to the table and began handing everybody an envelope, "One for you, and you, and you, and you, and you, and you, and you. Enjoy!"

They all ripped the paper open without sympathy, their minds imagining the envelope being filled with plane tickets to an exotic island or a spa day or some other wild dream. The smiles that came when they were handed the envelope quickly melted off their faces when they read what the slip of paper inside said.

There was a heavy silence before Falman broke it, "This just says … that we have the day off tomorrow…"

"Merry Christmas!" Mustang cheered, sitting down and taking sip from his newly poured wine.

"But…" Fuery whimpered. "We _always _have the day off on Christmas! It's a mandatory law set by the Fuhrer!"

Roy shook his head, "No. It's an _option _set by the Fuhrer. I'm just given the decision of whether or not I want to enforce that law and allow you the day off. So I decided, as your gifts, to give it to you! Merry Christmas!"

Everybody inflated like a stabbed balloon and sighed. This was to be expected.

Ed crumbled up the paper and threw it behind his shoulder, "This is stupid. I knew we should have just taken the money in the beginning."

Mustang jumped from his seat suddenly, "Ah, Fullmetal! I forgot to give you your _other _present!"

While he made his way over to the kid, Ed looked at him suspiciously. He's up to something. He's definitely up to something. Something's going on…

But before Ed was able to figure it out, Mustang had pulled out a snowball from his pocket and had shoved it in Edward's face, knocking him back both from surprise and from the push itself.

Mustang howled in victory as Ed sputtered, "W-what! No!"

"I win! Ha, ha! I am the champion! I win!" Mustang cheered; high-fiving Breda in his glory. "I win! I win! I win! I'm the winner! I win! I win!" He stopped his little victory dance and looked down at Ed with a devious smirk and said, "You know what _that _means don't you?"

Ed's face drained of color and he quickly ran behind Al for protection. But he didn't receive it; Al plucked him from behind and made him face Mustang, "Sorry, Brother. But a bet's a bet."

Ed paled when he saw Mustang pull out one of his gloves and slap it on his hand a few times, making him wince with each _smack! _

"Oh, I'm going to enjoy this _so _much!" Mustang said gleefully as he approached the kid.

Ed's head shook rapidly, "N-No! You can't! That's child abuse! I'll have you reported!"

"Totally worth it." But then Mustang paused and put the glove away. "Hm. Perhaps, I'll save it for another time. Yeah, today's doesn't feel like the kind of day to waste this."

Ed broke into a relieved smile and sighed, but then Mustang turned around and said cynically, "But don't get too comfortable, Fullmetal. This just means that, when you _least _expect it, I'll strike. So don't let your guard down, because you'll never know when I might be there to deliver the finishing blow."

With that, he howled evilly and left the room, Hawkeye right behind him, mumbling, "Idiot expects to drive after he drank…"

When Mustang and Hawkeye left, Ed shot an accusing glare at Havoc and Fuery, and the two put their hands up defensively. "Woah, don't look at us like that!" Havoc cried. "We would have helped, really. But we didn't want out day off tomorrow taken away."

"Whatever," Ed grumbled. "Come on, Al, we're leaving."

"Yeah, I think its time we leave, too." Breda said, scratching his head. Fuery, Falman and Havoc nodded and followed Ed and Al out the door, leaving Elicia in her chair to finish the juice in her cup.

Hughes sighed after the door closed and rubbed his forehead, "How normal of them, to leave _me _with the mess _they _created."

Gracia smiled, her thoughts the exact same, "Don't worry, honey. You only have to put up with this once a year."

He sighed again, "Even just once a year sounds too much when it comes to _them."_

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><p><strong>((UNEDITED))<strong>

**((Woohoo. I'm done! At 4:00AM. New record. So tired. Sleep. Bye. Review, sorry for lateness…sleep…bye))**

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><p><strong>NEXT CHAPTER:<strong>_Characters:_ _Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye, Jean Havoc, Vato Falman, Kain Fuery, Heymans Breda, Hughes Family_


	12. The Twelfth Day

**The Twelve Days of Disaster**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I own nothing on this site except for my imagination

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><p><em><strong>The Twelfth Day<strong>_

_**[CHRISTMAS DAY]**_

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><p><strong>Characters: <strong>Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye, Jean Havoc, Vato Falman, Kain Fuery, Heymans Breda, Hughes Family

**Summary: **It's Christmas time! Not only that, but Presents time!

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><p>It wasn't a white Christmas, as most expected, this year. The snow from the earlier days had melted quicker than they had fallen and there was not a speck of white anywhere. It was, though, a <em>wet <em>Christmas. The rain had begun late in the morning, and hadn't stopped since.

The freezing droplets fell from the clouds in a rapid pace, and puddles of subzero water was everywhere. Nobody was spared from the wrath of the weather.

Hughes' guests arrived looking like wet, kicked puppies that strayed too far away from home when they arrived at his doorstep Christmas afternoon.

It was agreed that everybody would come for cookies and brownies (Originally made by Ed and Mustang but there were some … problems and Hughes had to re-bake them all) and for the exchange of gifts.

That was mostly the reason why they came, those greedy, selfish cannibals. But it was funny to see them all holding nicely, wrapped boxes as they entered his home.

Mustang and Hawkeye were the first to arrive and Roy scrambled his way inside to try and evade the rain. He ruffled his hair like a dog would shake itself dry and muttered under his breath about the wretched weather and such.

The two were ill prepared for the weather change. Mustang suggested that _walking _to Maes' house would be more efficient that driving, since he no longer had a car (the one he borrowed ran out of gas and he felt that it was irrelevant for him to pay for the gas for someone else's car) and also because he didn't trust _Hawkeye _in one ever since the … incident.

Falman and Havoc came in next, but they were smarter. Well, Falman was. He was able to predict the weather before the down pour, and also, he always carried around a small umbrella for cautionary measures in his car.

Breda and Fuery came in with teeth chattering and clothes soaked. Even though they came via car, the walk from the parked car to Hughes' door was long enough for them to look as if they walked under a waterfall.

Ed and Al came in last (they were _always _late, no matter what the occasion was) and Ed had already started his complaining and whining about the sporadic weather and how he couldn't believe that _the weatherman that can't even get the weather right was even offered that job in the first place._

Thankfully, Hughes had a lovely fireplace that was able to warm everybody. Well, it wasn't _really _a fireplace; it was a radiator that he and Elicia painted a fireplace on. But it's the creativity that counts.

The presents were placed under the beautiful Christmas tree that was still standing mighty and tall. Falman would catch himself shooting glares at that tree and having awful flashbacks about _that_ day. At one point, he turned to Hughes and asked, "What are you planning to do with that tree after Christmas, Hughes?"

Maes, who was finished setting all the boxes underneath it, answered, "Oh? Well, I'll probably just put it out front and let the sanitation people get rid of it for me."

Falman nodded but wasn't satisfied with that answer. For some reason, the image of the torch gun that was stored in one of the ware houses kept popping into his head. "Would you mind if I _dispose _of it myself?"

Hughes gave him an odd look. "Uh … sure?"

"Excellent." Falman turned to the tree and silently muttered, "Justice will be served you ungrateful bastard."

Havoc pretended not to hear him. He didn't know why Vato hated that tree so much; he thought it looked great, but Falman looked at it like it was the Antichrist or something.

His expression suddenly broadened, just as everyone else's had, when Gracia walked in with a wide platter filled with frosted, colorful sugar cookies.

She smiled and lay the platter down by the tree and beamed when all the soldiers scrambled their way over to the cookies – punching and shoving and kicking and scratching.

"How are they?" Gracia asked when she saw their mouths happily chewing on the treats.

Breda answered, his mouth dripping with crumbs, " 'fs s'good!"

Ed however frowned at his cookie and said snipingly, "I bet mine would have tasted better if _someone _hadn't burned them." His glare was nailed at Mustang, who wiped his mouth clean and glared back.

"Perhaps if _someone_ hadn't acted so immaturely and began throwing food all around, then maybe I wouldn't have been distracted." Mustang shot back accusingly.

"Maybe if I wasn't so preoccupied with teaching an _idiot _how to crack a damn egg –!"

"Idiot!" Mustang repeated. "Idiot? I am _not _an idiot!"

"You can't even crack a frickin' egg!" Ed exclaimed.

"How about I crack your _tiny_ skull?"

"How about I crack your _useless_ spine?"

Gracia swiftly stood beside the two alchemists and slapped the two on the back of their heads and clicked her tongue, "Boys! I'm disappointed in you two! It's Christmas and you're already bickering like angry school children, how despicable. What have I told you about your fighting in my house?"

Ed and Mustang nursed their heads and mumbled shamefully, "Not to fight in the house…"

"Exactly," She huffed, hands at her hips. "Now, I'll let it slide, because it's Christmas, but only this once! Now don't let it happen again."

"M'sorry."

"Sorry."

She smiled and nodded her head in approval and trotted back to the kitchen to help Hughes with the brownies.

Alphonse couldn't contain himself and snickered loudly at his brother, "She told you!"

"Shut up, Al." Ed puffed. "It was all stupid Colonel's fault."

Mustang rolled his eyes, "Oh, yes. Put all the blame on me when it was obviously –"

"That better not be more fighting!" Gracia's voice rang, making both alchemists jump.

"N-no, Ma'am!" Mustang stuttered.

Havoc snorted but swallowed the laugh when Mustang glared at him.

Elicia suddenly started jumping up and down and chanted, "I want presents! I want presents!"

Hughes popped out with the tray of brownies (which didn't last for more than two minutes) and squeezed his daughters cheeks, "You get you presents later, okay, Princess?"

She frowned and screeched loudly, "Presents! Presents! Presents! Presents! I want them now! Now! _Now!"_

Ed snickered, "I don't know, Hughes. I think you should probably listen to her."

"She does have a good point," Falman muttered.

"I agree; Elicia does drive a hard bargain," Mustang mused.

"I don't see how you can refuse," Hawkeye opted.

Hughes threw up his hands, "Ack! The princess has spoken! How can I deny her her rights to her presents?" He patted the girl on the head and said, "Let me just get my camera and then you can open all your presents!"

When Hughes left the room, Ed snickered evilly and patted the girl on the back, "Good job, Elicia! You did great. Tomorrow I'll teach you how to lie."

She smiled, "Lie! Lie! Lie! Lie!"

Fuery swallowed hard, "Y-you've been teaching her how to … to be a _delinquent?"_

Ed scoffed, "What? No! I'm just teaching her how to get through life the easy way. Hughes always told me that I should be a better role model for her."

Maes returned just as quickly as he came, holding a small gray camera and an overly used smile. "Time to open presents!" He gushed, squatting next to the girl and already taking pictures.

Elicia couldn't contain her excitement and ran under the tree, pulling out all the boxes that had her name on it.

The first one was _huge _and the tag said: _TO: ELICIA, FROM: SANTA!_

"Santa!" She cried joyfully. "SANTA GOT ME A PRESENT! SANTA LOVES ME! SANTA! SANTA!"

She _massacred _the wrapping paper (Hughes' head dropped at that, _'All that hard work! Gone to waste!_), and underneath was a large box. She opened it quickly and looked inside, then screamed, "HORSEY! HORSEY! HORSEY!"

Hughes laughed and helped her pull out the large rocking horse from the box, "Wow! Santa got you a horsey! How lucky! It's a good thing you wrote that letter to him asking for it."

She rode the wooden horse for about three minutes, rocking back and forth in new found glee, then disregarded it and ran back to the gifts.

"Next! Next! Next!" She chirped, pulling out a handsome, blue box.

"That one's from Brother and I," Al said hurriedly while she ripped the paper off. Inside was small box that bore a stuffed kitted plush with giant wide eyes.

"…Al's idea…" Ed mumbled. He had wanted to get her a nice, large sword with cool, medieval designs on it but Al rejected that idea quickly and just decided to put both their names on the gift he got her.

"Kitty! Kitty!" She cried joyfully, hugging the fluffy, inanimate cat and then throwing it back by the wooden horse and reaching for another gift. Al noticeably sagged at the abuse of his present while Ed snorted, "Told ya the sword would have been better."

The next gift was from Breda. He gave her a small little doll that held some resemblance to Elicia. She looked at the doll for about two seconds before cradling it like a baby and then dumping it with her other gifts.

Next was Fuery's present, which was a cute little pink dress that earned howls of laughter from his coworkers who joked at his taste in dresses.

Then it was Falman's present, which was a large dictionary. "She's got to start learning new words," Falman insisted. Elicia stuck her tongue out and didn't even shoot the book a second glance.

Then it was Havoc's, which was a plastic purse filled with fake cosmetics.

Mustang's present to Elicia was a cute blanket with adorable pictures of animals etched on it. She wrapped herself in it but then tossed it and reached for her last present.

Hawkeye had a gift of wrapping presents. It was never extravagant, but never too plain. Simple and pretty, that's how she did it. But it wasn't the wrapping that caught everyone's attention; it was the actual gift.

Elicia opened the present in record time and what she pulled out was what made everybody jump – it was a _handgun_. At the sight of the weapon, everybody screeched and hid behind furniture from the gun wielding toddler.

"H-Holy crap!" Mustang managed. "Hawkeye, are you insane?"

"Please don't shoot me, Elicia!" Fuery was begging. "Please! I'm sorry if you don't like my present! I'll get you something better! P-please don't kill me!"

Hawkeye rolled her eyes and plucked the gun from the girl's tiny hands, "Relax. It's just a water pistol." To prove it, she pulled the trigger a few times and water squirted out. Yet still, everybody flinched.

Hughes hesitantly took the gun from Hawkeye's hands, "Perhaps…Elicia isn't old enough to have one of these."

"Nonsense," Hawkeye said. "It's better to train them early."

"I want gun!" Elicia cried. "I wanna shoot! Shoot! Bang! Bang! Bang! Die! Die!"

"I did _not _teach her that…" Ed mumbled.

Hughes hid the gun behind his back and said, "You'll get the … gun … later. But first, go enjoy all the presents everyone gave you!" She wasn't convinced, but eventually she gave in to her other presents and divulged into them.

Hughes sighed and hid the gun in the cabinet drawer near him, "Yes. Okay. New rule: No weapons."

Riza rolled her eyes and mumbled something about over protective parents and idiots with water gun phobias.

When the gun was safely hidden from plain sight, Hughes clapped his hands and announced what everybody was waiting for him to say, "Alright! I know you guys can't wait any longer, so go ahead! Open your presents!"

He quickly fled the room after his statement, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire. Even though most of them were adults, they acted like such children at this time, ripping presents up and excitedly playing with their new presents.

But it was okay; this was normal.

The sound of paper ripping was the only sound heard in the room.

Fuery opened all his presents first. He got a glasses case from Hawkeye ("You always lose yours; learn responsibility), a Taser gun from Ed ("This way you can fight back when people bully you! It works great, trust me! I had this one guy unconscious for hours from just one zap! Ha!"), two small weights from Havoc ("You're all skin and bones, man! How do you expect to impress the ladies looking like _that?"_), a first aid kit from Breda ("You have a tendency of getting hurt a lot…"), anxiety pills from Al ("I really think you should take one of these once in a while…") and a stress ball from Falman ("Your welcome.")

Then it was Havoc. He got nicotine gum from Al and nicotine patches from Ed ("I swear to God, you're going to drop dead from those cigarettes and I'll be at your grave, saying, 'I told you so!' – Shut up, I'm saving your life, you jerk!"), a friendship bracelet from Falman that had a small charm engraved with the letters BFF ("It stands for best friends forever…ah.."), barber scissors from Breda ("And you wonder why you never get dates! Look at your hair, it's like a freakin' troll's head – stand still, lemme just cut it for you!"), a fire extinguisher from Hawkeye ("You will leave this in the office at all times. If I catch you smoking inside, I will use it on you.") and a lighter with a small picture of deer on it ("W-w-why are you crying! You don't like it? Who's Suzie?")

Ed got a new pair of gloves from his brother ("Now remember! When you transmute your automail, _take off the gloves first!"_), a carton of milk from Breda ("Ha! Maybe now you'll finally grow a little, pipsqueak! Ha – Ow, ow! Stop! Ow! – Mrs. Hughes – ! Ed's hitting me! Ow!"), a jar from Falman ("To control your vulgar language. Every time you curse, you put one hundred cens in it. It really helps and you _need _it."), a new suitcase from Fuery ("I … You looked like you needed a new one…"), a comb from Havoc ("Your hair looks like it hasn't been combed in years!") and a map of Amestris from Hawkeye ("Instead of getting lost on your missions, how about you use a map? There's a reason why they made these, Edward.")

Breda's presents were a diet book from Falman ("I'm not implying anything! I'm just giving you something to look at…"), a brochure for anger management classes from Fuery ("Please don't hit me!"), a jump rope from Ed ("Lose some weight, fatass!"), a small pillow from Havoc ("This things great! When you're pissed, you can just beat it and when you're upset, you can scream in it!"), a gym membership card for three months from Hawkeye ("Lose weight and get in shape – no arguments!") and a restaurant gift card from Al ("Oh…maybe I should have gotten you something healthy like everybody else …?").

Falman got the same bracelet he gave Havoc ("Oh my _God! _We are best friends! We got each other the same present! No – wait. _We're soul mates, Falman._"), and books from the rest since they were slightly confused on what to get him. He got a cooking book from Ed ("Everybody needs to learn how to cook. You don't want to end up like Colonel Brainless over there."), a book about guns from Hawkeye ("You don't know enough. Read more."), a book about trees from Fuery ("W-w-w-w-why are you l-looking at me like that?"), a book about football from Breda ("You're not a man until you know how to play football, Falman.") and a book about public speaking from Al ("You need to speak up more!").

Hawkeye got gun cleaning equipment from the Elric brothers ("A clean gun is a happy gun!"), a small sticker with the words SAFTEY from Havoc ("See, you put that on your gun so you remember to put the safety on! You _do _remember to put the safety on when you wave that thing around…right?"), a lovely pistol key chain from Fuery ("Please don't shoot me!"), a subscription to a gun magazine from Falman ("Very informative…") and candy in the shape of guns from Breda ("I just….damn, I didn't think _everyone _would get you something with a gun! Now my thing isn't special anymore…")

Al got a small cat toy from Ed ("See! Who needs a real cat when you've got this thing!"), A bottle of spray filled with water from Hawkeye ("This is very effective, I use it on the Colonel multiple times. All you have to do is spray your brother a few times when he behaves badly."), armor polish from Fuery ("Um…you don't want to rust, plus it makes you shiny!"), a deck of cards from Havoc and a 'Master the Game of Poker' book from Falman("You've got the ultimate poker face, kid! You could make millions with just a good hand and a great strategy!"), and a dry erase marker from Breda ("With this, you can draw your facial expressions! Here, hold still – I wanna draw some whiskers on you…")

Then it was Mustang. Apparently, his subordinates were really excited about his gift. Mustang, however, was touched – in a suspicious way – that his underlings had taken the time to buy him a gift even though he hadn't really gotten them anything…

Oh well.

Mustang's gift was a _huge _wrapped box labeled _TO: COLONEL MUSTANG, FROM: YOUR MINIONS._

Minions…he liked the sound of that. Maybe he should start calling them that from now on.

When the paper was ripped, revealing the box, Ed exclaimed, "Wait! This gift deserves an honorable introduction." He stood up, cleared his throat and said, "Colonel, for being such a _great _boss, we've decided to put our money together to buy you a group present. We each put in a gift that we're _sure _you'll love. Okay, now open it."

A skeptical eyebrow raised, Mustang decided to take caution when opening this box. When he untied it and reached inside, the first thing he pulled out was a toy bone.

Breda stood up, "That's a chew toy, sir. The lady at the pet store said that dogs like that one especially because it makes a squeaking noise when you squeeze it. I hope you like it."

"…I don't have a dog," Mustang said slowly, inspecting the toy.

"I know," Breda said simply, sitting back down.

"Next!" Ed exclaimed, pushing Mustang to continue. The Colonel reached into the box again and this time pulled out a leash.

"That's a six foot, nylon leash with a comfortable leather grip," Hawkeye said. "Excellent for standard walks."

Then Mustang pulled out a studded collar and Fuery piped, "That one's good because it doesn't hurt the dog and it's … uh, pretty."

Then a small dog bed from Havoc, "It's really soft, Boss!"

Then a dog training book from Falman, "You don't want a disobedient dog, now do you?"

Even Al had given him a bag full of Doggie-Treats! "Its bacon flavored!"

Mustang gaped at the so-called gifts that they each left him. They were mocking him! They knew he couldn't have a dog because of his life-style and so they were deliberately rubbing it in his face! Those cruel, cold hearted asses!

"Wait! You haven't opened mine, yet!" Ed said excitedly. He sat next to Mustang and pulled out what appeared to be a large booklet from the box and put it on the Colonel's lap. "It's a puppy calendar!" Ed chirped happily. "Look at how _cute _those dogs are! Aren't they just adorable?" He opened the calendar and said, "And look! I circled the days that show when you _don't _have a dog, just to remind you."

Mustang flipped through it, "But…_all _the days are circled!"

Ed grinned, "I know! Merry Christmas!"

The look of misery plastered all over the Colonel's face was enough to make everyone burst into a hysterical laughing fit. They eventually started heaving and wheezing on their laughter, so Gracia had to give each one of them a cup of water and a few minutes to contain themselves.

"Wasn't this a _great _Christmas?" Hughes bellowed, taking pictures of everyone's actions and even their presents.

"It's not over yet," Mustang suddenly said. He rose slowly and glared in Ed's direction and pulled out a glove, viciously slapping it on his palm. Ed cowered when Mustang approached him. "I won the game," Mustang said coolly. "Which means I get to give you one nice _slap_. That was the agreement, was it not?"

Ed squealed like a piglet about to be butchered and ran for cover behind Al, "N-Now think about this for a sec, Colonel!"

"Oh, I have, don't worry," Mustang smirked, slapping his hand again with the glove.

Gracia suddenly stood up, "_What _did I say about fighting in my house?"

Mustang suddenly paled. Oh crap! Alert! Alert! "B-but! We're not exactly _fighting, _per se…"

Ed quickly ran to Gracia's side and latched on to her, wailing, "Colonel's gonna hit me!" Then he stuck out his tongue at Mustang sneakily and returned to his fake crying.

"Roy!" Gracia gasped. "How could you even think about hurting such a sweet boy like Edward?"

Ed was silently giggling from the woman's side and Mustang's jaw fell, "_Sweet? _He is anything _but _sweet! And anyways, we made a deal and he has to own up to it."

"There will be no violence in my house," Gracia declared.

"But—"

"No."

"Not even a little—"

"No."

"Gah!" Mustang cried, throwing his hands up. He scowled at Ed when Gracia began stroking his head and saying tender things to him. That little fake. Oh, but he will get him back. And he knew just the way how.

"Okay, how about a compromise, Fullmetal?" Mustang said.

Everyone stared at him. A _compromise? _The Colonel never compromised anything!

"What do you mean…?" Ed asked carefully.

"If not today, I will slap get to slap you another day," Mustang began. "But if you do something today, I will withdraw the slap entirely."

"Entirely?" Ed asked skeptically.

"Entirely."

"What would I have to do?"

Mustang smirked. "I'm sure Hughes has that abomination of a sweater of his from the photo lying around somewhere here. I want you to wear it for the rest of the day."

Ed's face boiled, "Are you _mad? _You want me to wear that … that … that _thing _for one whole day?"

"It's either that or the slap."

"I'd take the sweater deal, Chief," Havoc said.

"Yeah, the Colonel's slaps _sting." _Breda supplied.

Ed's eyes darted around trying to decide an answer. Finally, he eventually reached his conclusion and turned to Hughes, "Gimme the damn sweater."

It was almost three times his size, so it looked like Ed was wearing a horrid dress. Hughes was on a roll taking pictures of Ed, and Ed was on a roll with his string of profanities (he ended up putting a fortune in the swear jar Falman gave him).

But the day was mostly filled with laughs and joy, as most Christmas' do. And it was definitely something Hughes was planning to do for next year, and for all the years to come.

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><p><strong>((UNEDITED))<strong>

**((Wow! I'm done! I'm so glad I finished this before December, and quite angry that this chapter didn't come out **_**on **_**Christmas. BUT OH WELL! And now I would like to thank all my reviewers that stuck by this story and kept on supporting me! Your words were really great and I'm so happy you all liked it! I'm more of an angst writer, so switching from that to humor made me a little apprehensive but I'm so relieved by all the kind words you all had! So thank you to **_**Jazzymon, Nutella Alchemist, Die-hard-4-anime, Litai, Sonar, Eclipsewings, Gisel0202, KiLlErDaWn, miladyRanger, Pocket Quasar, darkreverie13, Top Hats and Other Items, Velgamidragon, FullMetalWizardNerd7, Rachel Elric, LoverInJapan, MEKbookworm**_** and to all the ****anons**** and anyone else who I missed as well! I love you all so much and I hope you had a spectacular Christmas and a great new year!))**

**((Oh, and if you're planning on leaving a review, I would really appreciate if you shared your favorite chapter! I'm extremely curious to know which one was the best in your opinion! Thank you, and have a splendid 2012! Bye!))**


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